


Twice. // Cedric Diggory, George Weasley

by crushedlilstars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, Love Triangles, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 59,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushedlilstars/pseuds/crushedlilstars
Summary: Grace Wynfield is a muggleborn witch, studying in her sixth year at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. She falls for Cedric Diggory, blissfully unaware that her best friend George Weasley is head over heels for her. Though at least one heart will get broken, sometimes you get to fall twice.Goblet of Fire onwards.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter I

With a  _ crack! _ , Grace landed on the dewy grass outside the Burrow. A groan passed her lips as she laid on her side, deciding that though the grass was soft underfoot, she would  _ definitely have bruises tomorrow. _ Not to mention the close miss of nearly landing on one of the many gnomes which littered the land outside the Burrow- that particular gnome was now waddling away as fast as it possibly could, which would have been quite amusing had Grace not felt as though she was about to upchuck her Shreddies.

“Oh, dearie!” cooed Molly, extending a hand to help the girl up. Grace still wasn’t used to apparating- in fact, she felt that she was hardly used to anything in the wizarding world, though she had first entered it almost 6 years ago. She groaned again as the wave of nausea passed over her, and took Molly’s warm hand in hers as she rose to her feet.

“You’ll get used to it,” she assured the girl with a smile, “everyone feels sick the first few times.”

Grace only smiled and nodded.  _ I hope that’s true, because right now I feel like my internal organs have been through a blender. _

Stepping into the house, her ears were bombarded with an array of noises; the kettle was squealing away, whilst Arthur seemed to be interrogating Harry and Hermione who had arrived earlier that day, Ron whining behind them, and Ginny laughing at the scene. She thought she heard an explosion above her head, too, though this was unsurprising. The Burrow was a lively place to say the least, but she always enjoyed staying there. It was always warm, the smell of baking wafting throughout the haphazardly built structure, and Grace was always welcomed with open arms. Ginny’s head popped up as Grace and Molly entered the cluttered living room, and she sprinted over to Grace, practically jumping into her arms as she beamed up at the taller girl. Without letting go, she threw her head back and let out an ear-splitting scream.

“Fred! George!- She’s here!” 

Or at least that’s what Grace  _ thought _ she said, as her ears were practically ringing at the sheer volume of the girl in her arms. 

“Ginny- Gin- volume,” she complained, though secretly her heart was warmed by the excitement that the younger girl had felt upon seeing her. Whilst when she arrived “home” she was usually greeted with uncomfortable, stifling silence from her parents, at the Weasleys’ she was always greeted with an overwhelming amount of love. Grace felt accepted by the Weasleys, she always had been. They had helped her to become accustomed to the wizarding world and its practices. In fact, she thought it rather silly that home meant the place where you lived, for she had never felt more at home than at the Burrow- except perhaps at Hogwarts.

However, those thoughts were interrupted with the racket of the twins as they thundered down the stairs, bounding into the living room. George had practically thrown himself down them.

“Gracie!” they exclaimed in unison, as they sandwiched her into their sides in a lung-crushing hug. She let out what sounded like a complaint- she truly believed she might have a broken rib at this rate. But really she was happy, despite her grumbling and her gasping for air. Her summer had been abysmally dull, and she had missed her best friends. 

George was the last to let go.

“You’ve cut your hair!” he noted, twirling one of her caramel curls around his wand before stopping to pick out a stray piece of grass that she must have picked up when she had landed outside. Though Grace’s hair used to reach her elbows, over summer she’d decided to give it the chop, in favour of the style she now sported, falling just above her shoulders.

“And  _ you _ haven’t,” she retorted, looking between the two of them and smirking. “Honestly, you look fresh out of the seventies, mate. Flower power and all that.” she remarked, teasingly.

Fred simply ruffled her hair- though he hadn’t a clue what she was on about, he had inferred that she was poking fun of what he had deemed something of a fashion statement. George simply flushed, wondering whether to ask Molly to give them a haircut before term started again. Surely it wasn’t  _ that _ bad? 

“Would you like something to eat, dear?” asked Molly, after Grace had finished greeting everyone. Molly had just saved her from a rather odd conversation with Arthur, who had been convinced that her “The Smiths” t-shirt was simply a display of her patriotism and love for the monarchy.  _ I’m sorry to hear that The Queen is Dead, _ he told her,  _ I hadn’t heard! They don’t put that stuff in the Daily Prophet, you know, though I’ve always thought they ought to update us on current affairs in the muggle world. Well, it’s not the muggle world, really, is it, it’s everyone’s world, yes, I really think we all ought to get on and- _

“Oh- I’ll just have a brew if that’s okay?” she replied, and a second later a mug of tea had appeared on the dining table for her. She turned to George, who was sitting and watching her intently to her left.

“Missed me, have you?” she teased, prodding him in the arm. Growing his hair wasn’t the only change to his appearance since she’d last seen him almost two months ago. He seemed to be taller, but not in the scrawny way that the twins had been before. He’d filled out a little, looked a little older; she supposed they all did. 

“Oh, most ardently, m’lady,” he responded in a mockingly posh tone to her somewhat rough northern accent. Fred finished off the act with a cheeky “we’ve been apart for too long!”, holding a hand to his heart and closing his eyes, mimicking a swoon.

She simply scrunched her nose at the pair, unable to keep a smile off of her face as she thought back to the muggle books she had read, wherein the brooding love interest would use such flowery language towards the main character. Not that things were like that between them, obviously. They had been best friends for years, and besides, Grace was not a main character. If this was Pride and Prejudice, she was Charlotte; if this was Jane Eyre, she was Helen. Grace had accepted this, early on in life, and simply enjoyed watching the story unfold around her. 

“Bellends.” was all she snickered in response.

But to herself she thought:  _ it’s good to be back. _

~*~

It was still dark when Grace awoke the next morning, the sound of the bed springs creaking as Ginny hopped onto her bed and dropped to her knees, leaning over her. 

“Gracie!” she said in a sing-song voice, as she attempted to pull the older girl’s hands from her eyes. They were firmly clamped there, for she hadn’t slept well last night. Ginny had kept her up almost all night, asking her all about her summer and everything that she had done. Hermione had been lucky enough to bag the spot on the end, whilst Grace was trapped between her loud snores, which had seemed to be competing with Ginny’s poor attempt at whispering. Though she loved Ginny dearly,  _ honestly she did, she loved her like a little sister, _ she had to battle with the urge to cast the silencing charm at the girl for a good portion of the night.  _ Bloody wizarding laws,  _ she thought,  _ I’m almost seventeen anyway.  _

“You have to wake up, dad says, because we’ve got to meet the Diggorys at the portkey in an hour and-”

“The Diggorys?!” exclaimed Grace, conceding to her friend’s attempt at pulling her hands from her eyes. She had tried, unsuccessfully, to conceal the excitement in her voice. She tried to speak nonchalantly, but a hopeful look appeared in her eyes. “As in- Cedric Diggory? That Hufflepuff in my year?” she asked, hopefully. She felt embarrassed even acknowledging it to herself, but she had always thought that Cedric was  _ rather good looking. _ She wasn’t alone in thinking so, either- she always saw swarms of girls, and even a few boys, giggling and blushing and swooning around Cedric. Even Ginny thought so, she realised, for she let out an eardrum-bursting squeal of excitement as her answer.

“Aw, Ginny, I’ve only just bloody woken up!” she grumbled, clutching her head as she rolled out of the other side of bed.

“Yeah, well- at least I warned you, didn’t I? Now you know you’re meeting him, you can get ready and look all nice!” she beamed, drawing back the curtains. Grace raised her eyebrows at her. “Not- not that you don’t always, obviously, it’s just…” 

She paused, leaning forward to squint at Grace.

“Well, yeah, it’s just that you might want to put some concealer on, because you look like you haven’t slept a wink!” she said, rushing out of the room to avoid Grace’s wrath.

“Oh, really? And I wonder why that might be, Gin?” she grumbled to herself, looking in the mirror. Ginny was right- she looked a state. She didn’t care, she told herself. So what if Cedric Diggory, the best looking, smartest, loveliest boy at school would see her? Okay, maybe she cared a bit. But only a bit. It’s not like she fancied him, she just wanted to look presentable. That’s how she justified it to herself, as she trudged into the bathroom to wash her face.

~*~

“You know, George, I reckon you should tell her!” exclaimed Ron, sitting at the dining table between Harry and Hermione. He was stuffing his mouth with the toast which Mrs Weasley had made them, spraying crumbs onto the table. Hermione gave him an exasperated look, wishing that he would stop speaking with his mouth full. It seemed to be a habit he would never grow out of, and truly it was a little revolting, she thought.

“Yeah, I reckon so, too,” Fred agreed. “I know I’m the better looking twin and all, but she did go out with me in second year. So you never know  _ your  _ luck.” he smirked, watching the look on his twin’s face turn to one of pure annoyance.

“Oh yeah, you were practically married, you two,” he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Those two weeks where you ‘went out’ during which, might I add, you didn’t so much as hold hands, they’re really promising!”

Ron burst out laughing as Fred’s face reddened. “Well, we  _ were _ about 12! I was hardly going to whisk her away to Madam Puddifoot’s, was I?”

Mrs. Weasley pouted at this, patting Fred’s head.

“Well, you like that other girl now, don’t you? Oh, what’s her name again? Angela? Angelica?” said Mr. Weasley, trying to show how much he had listened to Fred’s enamoured rambling over summer.

“Angelina.” corrected Ginny, stifling a laugh with a sip of her juice.

“Yeah,” Fred agreed, “but that’s not the issue here. You’re forgetting- it’s  _ George _ who’s hopelessly in love here!”

That caused an outburst as the Weasleys began speaking over each other, all at once. And it was at this point that Grace walked in, having missed the whole conversation. She took little notice of the fact that the conversation died down as she slid into her seat next to George, nicking a slice of jam on toast from his plate.

George was flushed, sitting in his seat uncomfortably at the conversation that had just passed. He didn’t understand how Grace hadn’t noticed yet, but he had liked her for years now. He had always known there was something about her, ever since she had interrupted his and Fred’s conversation on the Hogwarts Express when they were in their first year. They had been discussing strategies for the first prank of their academic career, hardly even noticing the silent girl sitting across from them in the compartment, when she had cleared her throat and looked at them incredulously. The moment that she had pointed out the flaws in their poorly designed plan, he was in awe of her. They both were, really; though Grace was a muggleborn, she had certainly done her summer reading. At the time the twins had just thought that this was  _ really, really sad _ , but George had since felt a twinge of guilt when he realised she had only been trying to fit in with all those kids from wizarding families.

Of course, she had rarely partaken in their plans- Grace was quiet, her rebellion far less noticeable than that of the twins. Content with watching from the sidelines, laughing along with everyone else, she had never wished for the attention to be on her. The logistics, the planning- that’s what she enjoyed. Adding her neat cursive writing to the scrawled notes of her two best friends, correcting, improving, accentuating the finer details of their plans. She perfectly complemented the pair- their foil, if you will. Grace grounded the twins, and together they were the perfect trio: Winfield and Weasleys.

“Now, make sure you’re wearing comfortable shoes,” Arthur reminded the children, “because we’ve got a lengthy walk ahead of us.”


	2. Chapter 2

As the Weasley family and their friends trudged up the hill from Ottery St. Catchpole, the sun scorched down on them. Though Grace was utterly out of breath, bringing up the rear with Ginny and Hermione, Fred and George had been running back and forth, complaining about the "slowcoaches" and persistently annoying Arthur with a chorus of "are we there yet?", though they knew very well that they were not. In fact, the twins were so full of energy that they had shoved Ron back down the hill several times, and George had tried to pick Grace up and carry her to the top of the hill.

"George!" she shrieked, banging her fist on the boy's back to no avail. She was much shorter and much weaker than George, who had been a Beater on the quidditch team since his second year- the best Beater, she knew. Who knew the boy had so much pent up rage in him, she had once said to Cho whilst watching him play.

"Put me down!" she pleaded through fits of laughter. In the end she had practically thrown herself off of his shoulder, upside down, dragging the pair of them to the floor in a heap on the grass at the top of the hill. When George told her that he had a stitch from laughing so hard, she told him she'd show him a bloody stitch, trying to roll him back down the hill.

"Amos!" exclaimed Arthur, at that moment, shooting George and Grace a look which begged them to stand up and look presentable in front of his Ministry colleague. They obliged, George pulling her up from the ground before they headed over to the rest of the group where Arthur was introducing his family to Mr. Diggory. Shortly after this introduction, Amos began to brag about his son's victory against Gryffindor in a quidditch match the past year.

"It'll be one to tell the grandkids, it will, I told my Ced. Beating Harry Potter! Now that's not something that everyone can say, is it? But I'm sure Harry would agree, the best man won." Amos declared, beaming with pride at his son. Grace couldn't help but notice how unbelievably uncomfortable everyone looked, Cedric himself in particular. He was flustered, looking as though he wished the ground would swallow him, as he tried to explain to his father that Harry had played rather well before being knocked off his broom by dementors. Amos, however, wasn't having any of it, brushing off his son before engaging in a discussion with Arthur about ministry matters.

Grace felt sorry for him, she really did. Before she had received her Hogwarts letter, before she had become the family disappointment, her parents had been just as proud as Amos was of his son. They had attended all her school ceremonies, bragging to their friends about how little Gracie had passed her 11+ exams and would be attending grammar school. Though they couldn't afford to send her anywhere exclusive, they boasted that this grammar school was just as good. Their Gracie would go far, she'd go to University, and then who knows what she could do? That was long ago, though, almost like a different life. In fact, when she reflected upon the attitudes of her parents nowadays, she could hardly believe that she had been the child they loved so dearly. Ever since she was invited to Hogwarts, they had practically pretended that she didn't exist. Of course, they would still brag to their friends about her; they told half-truths about her very exclusive boarding school, but they dared not elaborate about where or what she studied. They were merely keeping up appearances.

Snapping out of her wallowing thoughts, she looked up and met a pair of kind, grey eyes. Cedric Diggory. She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows slightly, as though silently telling him that she understood. He just smiled a lopsided smile back at her, receiving this message loud and clear.

"It's Gracie, right?" he asked. So he had noticed her existence.

Grace nodded back, of course not having to ask for his name- everyone in the school knew who Cedric was. She could have sworn she could hear George's eyes roll in his skull at Cedric's use of her nickname, but she couldn't help blushing slightly at it. She repulsed herself!

"Come along," said Arthur, beckoning the unruly group of kids to an old leather boot. Fred joked about it being an early birthday present for him and George to share, and Grace couldn't help snorting at this before turning beet-red.

~*~

If Grace had to describe the Quidditch World Cup in one word, it would be amazing. But if she had to describe it with two, she reckoned they would be amazing and confusing.

Honestly, Grace had never been one for sports when she was younger, and whilst she found watching quidditch infinitely more interesting than watching a load of grown men chase a ball on the ground before throwing themselves on the floor and wailing when they lost, she still didn't totally understand it. She had always attended matches at school, supporting her own house, or Gryffindor when Harry and the twins played. However, deep down it still confused her a bit, and watching the professional players of Ireland and Bulgaria play certainly didn't help that. She had bought a pair of omnioculars when they arrived at the campsite, but since Fred and George had bet all their savings against Ludo Bagman (she had warned them!), she had lent them to the boys. Really, they would enjoy the experience much more than her. Though this meant she had even less clue what was going on as she watched a blur of colours streak across the stadium, she didn't really mind- it was worth it to see the twins' faces light up with joy at the end of the match, jumping like lunatics when they realised just how much money they had won as their predictions were realised.

As they walked back to their tents in the dark, Fred and George had pranced around, singing off-key about Ron's undying love for the Bulgarian seeker, Krum. Ginny and Grace roared with laughter at the scene, almost unable to breathe at their sad attempts at harmonising. At that moment, Grace felt a tap on her shoulder and squinted into the dark to make out who the face belonged to.

"Amazing game, wasn't it?" said Cedric, as Ginny giggled and ran to catch up with the others. A sense of panic shot through Grace's veins; though she knew that Cedric was just a regular boy really, she couldn't help but feel nervous around him. She didn't want to slip up and say something embarrassing to him, as she had to others so many times in the past. Though she was in Ravenclaw, most of that wit and wisdom didn't make it past her brain, and she often found herself tongue tied. She could solve any puzzle, any riddle- but she couldn't form a coherent sentence around those she was unfamiliar with. Disregarding her outburst to Fred and George on the Hogwarts Express on her first day, Grace had never been particularly skilled in the social department. There had been something about the twins that had eased her nerves, made her feel heard when she spoke to them. But around anyone else, Grace felt wary to mortify herself.

"Er- yeah!" she answered, her deep brown eyes wide in the dark. "Well, what I could see of it, anyway." she added.

"I really thought Bulgaria had it in the bag. Their team looked terrifying."

Grace laughed at this, nodding. The Bulgarian team had looked terrifying, and it amused her to picture them playing against the Ravenclaw quidditch team. Whilst her friend Cho was a great Seeker, Krum was infinitely better- and not much older.

"Oh yeah, but I think their mascots were much scarier," she quipped, referring to the beautiful veela cheerleaders, who had turned quite monstrous when provoked by the leprechauns. "Fred almost threw himself over the railings."

Cedric laughed at this, and Grace couldn't help but notice how his whole face lit up when he did so. His eyes crinkled as his face dropped forward, looking at the ground; Grace couldn't help but smile, too. His laughter was light and contagious, and she couldn't help thinking that he was probably the most beautiful boy- no, person- that she had ever seen. Thankfully he couldn't see her blush when she realised this, for the dark had wiped the colour from both of their faces.

When they got back to their respective tents, she was reluctant to see him go.

"Wait!" she said, just as he reached to open the tent. He turned to her expectantly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Stay." she blurted out.

"Er- I mean... Well, we're all sitting around outside for a while. The twins wanted the real muggle camping experience, and of course I'm happy to oblige and- you should join us." she told him, hoping he would say yes. Truthfully, it's not as they had a great deal planned- it was already rather late, but they had thought it would be fun to all sit around the fire for a while and play some games. "If you want, I mean. I understand if you're too tired, it's been a long day, but it would be nice if you-"

He had already stepped back from his tent, his small smile widening and spreading to his keen, grey eyes. "Of course," he answered.

Together they walked towards the small campfire that Hermione had lit on an empty patch of grass near their tent. Grace sat down next to Ginny, with Cedric on the other side of her. Fred and George shot her an unimpressed look for inviting him to their little get-together, and she simply rolled her eyes in response. She didn't understand their adamant dislike of him; they argued that he was thick, full of himself, and they grumbled over the fact that he had unfairly beat them at quidditch the year before. But he wasn't thick, she knew he always got top grades. He wasn't full of himself, merely well-liked and kind. And he himself had protested his quidditch victory, asking for a rematch- the boys were just being childish.

"Right, so what is it that you muggles-" Ron started, before correcting himself, "-that muggles do when they go camping?" Everyone turned to look expectantly at Hermione and Grace.

Casting her mind back to when she was ten or eleven and attending Cub Scout camps, Grace looked thoughtfully into the campfire. They were obviously too old for some of the sillier games, but she knew the twins couldn't resist a good dare, and that Ginny would delight in interrogating everyone about their love lives. So she briefly explained truth or dare, outlining the rules and the forfeits (being a lab rat for one of the twins' mysterious new creations), and they began.

Initially, Hermione thought it sounded far too boring, far too simple. That was, of course, until it had been Ron's turn.

"Truth," he had said, smiling confidently, glad that Fred and George couldn't make him eat any of their unlabelled (but definitely slightly dangerous) prototype sweets.

"Easy," said Fred, sharing a knowing look with George, who grinned manically. "Who do you fancy?"

Now, even in the dim glow of the campfire, Ron's blush could be seen. His whole face turned dark as he shook his head violently. "Uh- I meant dare!"

"Now, now, ickle-Ronniekins," chided Fred, "You can't just change your mind! I think this calls for a forfeit- Gracie, George?"

Grace merely shrugged, enjoying watching the scene unfold, but George had a better idea. "No, let him have a dare instead- I have one for you, Ron." he said. Ron let out a sigh of relief, looking pleadingly towards George.

"I dare you to tell us who you fancy!"

And of course Ron then forfeited, eyeing the canary cream suspiciously before briefly turning into a little yellow bird. The group howled with laughter as he flitted around, his chirping somehow conveying his irritation. Cedric met Grace's eye again- he was glad she had thought to invite him, even if he hadn't felt particularly welcomed by the others.

By time it was Cedric's turn the second time (his first dare had been from George, to eat a ton-tongue toffee), everyone was beginning to feel tired and ready to retire for the night. Of course, Ginny wasn't going to let anyone go to bed before she had enacted her clever little scheme, as she had been planning it ever since she had found out what they were playing. In her eyes, giving Cedric and Grace a gentle shove was what they needed. She knew that George liked Grace (and honestly, she couldn't believe that Grace had never noticed this herself), but so what if he did? He wouldn't make a move out of fear for ruining their friendship and making things awkward, and even if he did make a move, Ginny was fairly sure that he would be rejected. Once over, Grace might have said yes, but it had simply been left too long.

"Uh- Cedric?" she had said, in a slightly uncertain voice. He had met her wariness with a reassuring smile, assuming she was just shy. "Well... I dare you to kiss Gracie."

Grace's eyes widened and her heart dropped. She began to protest- she had had no idea that Ginny was planning this, and she felt mortified to think that Cedric may assume she had. The idea of kissing him wasn't so bad, she had thought, but she hardly knew him! And besides, there was no way he'd want to... would he?

"Right, that's it!" George said, standing up. He and Fred steered Ginny away by the shoulders, as he lectured her about how you can't just tell people to kiss. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had each given an awkward smile before heading away from the group, leaving Cedric and Grace alone around the dwindling fire.

"I- I'm sorry about her," she had eventually managed, after a few moments of silence. She put the fire out with some of the water that the boys had collected earlier, afraid to meet Cedric's eyes for fear of judgement. It was silly, she thought, to feel so embarrassed. It's not like it was her idea.

Cedric simply reached a hand out, wrapping it around her wrist before squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Hey," he whispered, and she finally met his eyes. "It's okay. I know Ginny was just young and overexcited and-"

He paused, taking a deep breath. It seemed even the great Cedric Diggory was lost for words sometimes, as his pulse quickened at the thought of what he was about to say. Contrary to popular belief, Cedric was not a womaniser. It was merely assumed because of the attention he received, and the attitudes of some of his 'friends'. Really, he was soft-hearted, quick to fall in love, but under all the bravo and popularity, he too was shy. In all honesty, he hadn't returned the attention of any of his admirers, though he was always kind enough to let them down gently. None of them had really caught his eye before. Until, perhaps, now.

It was as though Cedric was seeing Grace for the first time. Properly seeing her, at least. They had shared some lessons together previously, and he had always admired her hardworking attitude and high grades. He knew she was kind, having often seen her helping students from younger years with their homework- especially muggleborns who were afraid that they could never catch up to their peers from wizarding backgrounds. She was a dab hand at Potions, making her a rare favourite of Snape's. But he had never paid much attention to her before. Had never appreciated her fine sense of humour, admired the blush that so often crept onto her face, never before found himself lost in her large, brown eyes. Never truly appreciated her. And something told him that no one else had, either. Of course, he could be wrong, but Cedric felt that he was generally good at reading people.

"And I wouldn't like to have to take a forfeit. So, if you wouldn't mind... perhaps I could give you an IOU for that kiss? You know, if or when I've had the opportunity to take you somewhere nicer than an overcrowded campsite?"

Grace beamed. The butterflies in her chest must've been on steroids, she thought, because surely that feeling was abnormal. Like nothing she had felt before, only read about.

She nodded, a poor attempt at nonchalance. "I could agree to that arrangement."


	3. Chapter 3

After that, Grace struggled to sleep. She had made her way back to her tent, expecting to be interrogated by Ginny and Hermione about what happened, but fortunately the pair had fallen asleep. Though she had gotten ready to sleep, she had no such luck; she felt as though she had been laying there for hours, replaying the scenario in her head.

Should she have told him it was fine, that he didn't have to take her anywhere? Should she have sounded a bit less eager? Should she have jokingly told him that, actually, she charges interest rates on IOUs, and would be expecting him to pay up in double? Should she just have kissed him?

She was clueless.

After tossing and turning a short while longer, she decided to go and get herself a drink of water, checking her watch on her way to sit on the settee. She was still gobsmacked by the size of the tent- she remembered having to sleep in a sleeping bag in a tent inconveniently placed over a tree root when she was a Cub Scout. If only she could have used magic back then.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a shriek. She knew that this was not normal, not at all- though the sounds of celebration from the tents of the Irish had never truly died out, this noise was very different. A shiver ran across her shoulders, down her spine, as whoever was outside let out another blood-curdling scream. It could be a fox, right? Grace was sure that she'd heard that foxes often made horrendous noises in the night, causing many a panicked suburban dweller to check outside their window for signs of the potential murder taking place in their back garden, before grumbling their way back to bed when they realised it was just a bloody fox. 

No, she thought, this was not a fox. This was different.

More wails polluted the air as she rushed to see the commotion that was going on outside. What she saw haunted her. A muggle family, the one who she thought she recognised from when she had helped Arthur check into the campsite, were suspended in mid-air. They writhed, screaming, as though they were being tortured by some invisible source. No, not an invisible source, but a small group of masked wizards huddled below them. To Grace, it felt like something out of a film- a horror film, of course, the kind her mother would never let her watch. They were advancing, getting closer by the second, and some drunken wizards seemed to be joining them, as though this were some sort of festivity. Bile rose in Grace's throat, for she had an inkling about what exactly was going on: dark magic. She was absolutely horrified. Why wasn't anyone stopping them?! And with that, she turned her back, running to wake up Ginny and Hermione.

She scarcely had time to explain, her heart thundering at a million miles an hour in her chest as she struggled to get her words out through her short, sharp breaths. Hermione understood her fear immediately- if they were torturing muggles, they surely weren't fans of muggleborns, either. Blood purity was a stupidly big deal for some wizards, who prided themselves on their winnings from the genetic lottery. Grace had never thought that that mattered- she had every right to be there, and Hermione even more so for she was the brightest witch of their age in Grace's mind. The frizzy-haired girl tried to calm her, rubbing her shoulder, though she was just as scared; Grace could see the fear in her eyes. Hermione took over, deciding that they ought to go and make sure the boys were awake.

"Oh- Cedric and Amos!" Grace exclaimed, as the realisation that they might not know what was going on dawned upon her. Of course she knew that they were purebloods, and thus not particularly in imminent danger as she and Hermione were- purebloods were exactly what Death Eaters liked, and Grace doubted that they would ever kill one of them, for it would surely contradict their agenda. But she could see the havoc and destruction being wreaked outside, and thought it would be safer for them all to get the hell out of there.

Still shaking and holding back tears, she sprinted to the Diggorys' tent, almost falling flat on her face as she was tripped up by several guy ropes which were keeping the tents in place. She practically fell into their tent, meeting a very dishevelled looking Cedric who was just pulling on a t-shirt. He was alarmed at the sight of Grace, practically hyperventilating and pointing back to where she had come from. He reached out his arms to the girl, but she was in too much of a state to even notice as she rambled about what she had seen. Cedric had been awoken by the screaming outside, but he hadn't quite registered the gravity of the situation until he saw Grace's face and bounded to tell his dad.

Running a hand through her curls, Grace tried to banish what she had just seen through her mind, willing Cedric to hurry up so that he could distract her from what was going on. Not only what was going on in that moment, but what she could infer it would lead to. If people were openly practicing dark magic, did that mean that they no longer feared being caught or imprisoned? If they would pull such a stunt at the Quidditch World Cup, surrounded by Ministry officials, what would stop them from doing far worse in the near future? She shuddered at the thought, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. When she had gone to bed, she hadn't banked on being out in the cool night air again so shortly, and her thin cotton t-shirt did little to fend off the goosebumps raising on her arms.

When Cedric returned, after what felt like a lifetime, he had grabbed the jacket which he had been wearing earlier and slung it over Grace's shoulders. Even in the panic of the situation, he had thought of her comfort- she likely would have melted if she even had the capacity to notice this at that moment. He took her hand and once again gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Come on," he muttered softly, "we should really get out of here."

And with that they were off, following the crowds who were running towards the forest. Grace stumbled in the dark, held up only by Cedric's steady grip on her. Her legs seemed to have liquified, and she struggled to stay upright as a fresh wave of fear washed over her.

"But- the others!" she cried, twisting back to look at her tent and the one next to it. "The others, where are they?!" She pictured George and Fred, stuck in the hordes of people, shoved and elbowed and bruised. Or worse.

Cedric soothed her, reassuring her that they had probably already made it to the forest, as they had set off before the pair. Besides, they would be safe. They were a large group, and not incapable of defending themselves should trouble arise. People bustled past them, some of them angry that they had simply stopped in the middle of the path, and so Reluctantly, Grace accepted this, and they continued into the forest. When they could no longer hear the screams, they stopped.

Whilst Grace had not been afraid of the dark for many years, the forest looked particularly menacing by now. She remembered her mother taking away her pink nightlight when she was 7- what on earth would you need this for? Now the branches seemed to reach towards her, grabbing at her, and any noise made her jump. Occasionally, the odd witch or wizard would stumble across the pair, and Cedric would raise his wand as a precaution. Luckily, he didn't have to use it, but in the depths of Grace's heart she felt warmed to know that we would break the law to protect them both. And she reckoned he could, too, for though he seemed very soft she knew that he achieved impeccable grades.

At that moment, she could no longer hold back her tears; they flooded down her cheeks and she scarcely noticed. She felt entirely numb, zoning out from her surroundings. When she came around again she was sitting on the cold, bumpy floor of the forest, leaning against a tree. Cedric knelt in front of her, cupping her cheeks and trying to calm her down as her breathing slowed to an almost normal rate. His usually-glowing face looked deeply concerned, his eyes slightly pained. Slowly, she realised what had just happened. Though she knew it was ridiculous- she would never have judged anyone else for being uncontrollably upset, especially in a situation like this- she couldn't help but feel absolutely mortified. Not because Cedric had seen, for it would have been equally as bad if George or Cho or anyone had seen this level of vulnerability in her, but because anyone had seen.

See, Grace liked to think that she came across as strong. Not physically, but emotionally, because she had always been the one to support others in their time of need. When she could no longer hold herself together, as had happened much more often in her early years at Hogwarts, she would crumble alone. She would cry to herself, and then she would dry her tears and resume whatever she had been doing; it had always been that way. And whilst her friends knew that she was soft-hearted and, at times, emotional, they also knew that she preferred to go it alone when she crumbled. How could she expect others to rely on her if she couldn't even hold herself together? And who was Grace Wynfield, if she couldn't support her closest friends, and sometimes strangers?

"I'm- really sorry," she choked out through sobs. Cedric pulled her into his warm arms, leaning his chin on the top of her head as he muttered reassuringly to her that she had absolutely nothing to be sorry for. After they had sat in comfortable silence for a while, and once he had wiped away her tears, he got to his feet and extended a hand to help her up. She took it gratefully, looking around her cautiously as she heard footsteps approaching.

"Gracie!" shouted Fred as he neared the two, George and Ginny just behind him. He had a relieved look on his face as he pulled Grace into a tight hug. "We've been looking for you for ages, no one had seen you since it all kicked off and we thought-" 

He didn't have to finish his sentence, for everyone understood the implications.

After pulling out of his arms, Grace turned to Ginny and George; the latter looked somewhat disgruntled. "You can't just run off alone like that, Gracie, we were so worried. I was worried."

Ginny smacked his arm at that. They had all been worried. "I told you, she went with Cedric because she had to wake him and his dad up. She wasn't alone," explained Ginny, for what Grace could assume was not the first time. She understood why her friends had been worried- she had worried for them too, and they were arguably in less danger than she. George simply shrugged at this, as though disregarding what she had told him once again.

Grace stepped forward to pull them both into a hug, hoping that the darkness would obscure her face enough that they wouldn't see how much she had been crying. "I'm sorry," she croaked, "I really didn't mean to worry you,"

Understanding, George just nodded, pulling her a little tighter. "I think we need to go find the others- we got separated somewhere along the line," he murmured to her, careful not to use a tone that might upset her again. He hated to see her like this, broken, fragile; it was rare that he would, though he had caught glimpses before when she thought no one would notice. George knew that she had a hard time with her parents, and that was usually what had got to her. 

But he couldn't entertain the idea that she might actually be in danger for a second, vowing to himself that he would protect with all he could if this situation really did spell danger. He thought he might even protect her with his life, regardless of whether she would do the same for him. She might, he contemplated, though he would never allow her to. One thing was certain, though; he knew that nothing good could come of the little spectacle that they had seen tonight. George had heard enough stories about what had happened in the Wizarding War from his dad, and what had passed that night felt eerily familiar, even down to clothes of the culprits. The uncertainty of the future weighed him down, but he refused to let Grace see this, to let it further burden her mind. He donned his softest smile as he asked her if she would be okay, and was met with a nod.

Pressing an almost impalpable kiss to the top of her head, he released her from his arms, letting her go to Cedric.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's a shame Gracie couldn't stay till the end of the holidays," sighed Mrs Weasley as she shoved her children's trunks into the back of one of the muggle taxis they had called to take them to King's Cross Station. She had always liked Grace, ever since the twins had written home about her in their first term at Hogwarts. She seemed to have kept them out of trouble; well, minimised the trouble at least, even persuading them to study at times! Molly had been in disbelief when she first saw their grades, which had exceeded her expectations. But more than that, Grace was just lovely. She always wrote to Molly as though she was her mother, Grace replying on behalf of her actual children when they were too busy or too lazy to write home. Thankfully, Grace always kept Molly updated on the goings-on at Hogwarts, else she feared she might go mad with worry.

"Yeah, well, you know what her parents are like," replied Fred, squeezing into the back seat next to George and Ginny. He had been annoyed about the situation too, because they'd hardly seen Grace all summer, bar the three days that she had been there for the Quidditch World Cup. And that hardly went to plan. "They tried taking her out of school to sit those muggle exams, McGonagall ended up having to register her to take them at the closest test centre to Hogwarts so they wouldn't pull her out permanently,"

George went on to explain, "They weren't happy that she wouldn't be coming home for Christmas this year, either. Something about us rotting her brain and stealing her away?" He laughed then- he thought it was ridiculous, insulting even, for them to suggest that. It wasn't anyone but her parents' fault that they couldn't accept her for who she is. Though maybe they had rotted her brain slightly, because he was certain that the fumes from his and Fred's always-disastrous attempts at potions surely couldn't be healthy.

"I suppose I understand," Molly conceded, as the taxi lurched to a stop at a traffic light. "I wouldn't want you all leaving me alone at Christmas. But what would she need muggle exams for, she'll get her NEWTs!" She frowned at the thought of the Burrow being nearly empty all year round. Despite her tellings off, she really did miss her children when they were away, and wouldn't like for them to be spending Christmas with someone else's family. 

"Oh, don't even try to understand them, mum, they're nothing like you!" Ginny exclaimed. From everything that she had heard about Grace's parents, this was true; it wasn't that they liked spending time with her, so much as they loved to parade her around in front of their friends whilst dodging questions about her private education out of England. If they got her to sit her muggle tests, they could make that lie much more believable- that's what Grace had told her. Though Grace resented all the extra work that she had to do, she supposed it could be useful to have a grounding in regular subjects. Though she didn't think that she would be using Pythagoras' theorem any time soon.

~*~ 

Ginny was right. That morning, Grace's parents had tried every tactic possible to prevent her return to Hogwarts. They wouldn't take her; she didn't care, her friends would come to collect her. They wouldn't write to her; she didn't care, they never did anyway. They wouldn't let her come back to the house; she didn't want to.

"What, aren't you happy that I'm going back to my exclusive boarding school?" Yelled Grace, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she pulled her trunk out of her room in the hotel. They would never have gotten to Platform 9 ¾ in time if they hadn't stayed on the outskirts of London overnight, because the Wynfields lived too far North.

Her mother hushed her- she didn't want anyone else to overhear, of course, because even in a city where they knew nobody, both she and her husband were obsessed with keeping up appearances. "With that attitude, yes, we'll be happy to see the back of you. It's time you grow up and realise that you're wasting your time with all of that magic business. You have your GCSEs, we made sure of that, and now you can go to sixth form. All that rubbish that you study at Hogwarts won't get you into university, it won't even get you a job!"

Filled with rage, Grace spun to face her parents. Unsurprisingly, her father had kept relatively quiet during this outburst- his wife was the one in charge here, and he simply followed what she said. "I don't need to go to university, because I don't need to get a muggle job! I don't need to sit in a stuffy room and pretend that I care about whatever the hell it is you want me to study for years, just so that I can go work in an office!" she huffed, pulling the door open as she heaved her trunk halfway through it. "And I certainly won't do that just because you didn't get the chance to. I know what I want to study, and it's the same thing I've always wanted to study. Believe it or not, history isn't just a concept in your world." She shoved the trunk into the corridor, where a few heads were now popping out of doors, since it was only 8 o'clock Grace was aware that she would be very, very early, but she couldn't stand to be late, nor could she stand to be around her parents for a second more.

Her mother merely stood with her mouth gaping open as Grace continued, "And I certainly won't be coming back for any of the holidays, so don't plan on seeing me! Tell your friends that I'm skiing with my private school," she spat. At that, her mother's eyes hardened and her jaw was set.

"No, we don't expect to see you, Grace, in fact we don't expect to see you ever again. You're not welcome here, not for the holidays and not at the end of the school year. You can stay with those Weaselbees that you love so much."

If not for the severity of the conversation, Grace would have laughed at the use of the insult that usually came from Draco. Her mother had never even met Draco, so it was lost on her how she had come up with the name on her own. But instead she simply said, "I'm surprised you even know who the Weasleys are, since you don't listen to a bloody word that leaves my mouth. And you call yourself my mother," as she shook her head in disbelief.

"Bye, dad!" she added, before slamming the door closed behind her and pulling her trunk down the corridor and to the lift.

In all honesty, Grace felt horrendous. She had never raised her voice at her parents, never argued back; it just wasn't in her nature. Usually, she would just take what they said in silence before retreating to her bedroom to read or write a letter to one of her friends. Or to pore over one of the muggle textbooks that they forced her to memorise. Never again would she pick up one of those, in fact she firmly decided that the next time she went "home" (which would only be to collect her things before finding somewhere else to live), she would put those straight in the bin. Maybe the twins would give them a proper send off, she thought- it brought her some joy to know that they would dispose of them creatively, at least.

And though each year they had almost an identical conversation, she couldn't help feeling that this time she really wouldn't be going back to her house again.

~*~

After taking the taxi to the railway station, Grace realised just how early she was- the train wouldn't be setting off for another couple of hours at least, so she settled herself in the coffee shop and pulled out a book to pass the time. Her copy of Emma was battered, having read it countless times since she started Hogwarts, but it was one of her favourites and always managed to soothe her soul. Having lost track of time in the pages of Austen, Grace was snapped back to reality when she overheard the barista of the coffee shop trying to explain the currency to a particularly lively-sounding man. At first she had assumed he was just a traveller who was unfamiliar with British currency- that was, until she looked up and saw Amos Diggory, red faced with embarrassment as he sifted through a wallet filled with a jumble of coins.

She leapt out of her seat and to the counter in an attempt to cover for the conversation and spare poor Mr Diggory any further embarrassment. Plucking the wallet out of his hand and paying the deeply confused barista herself, Grace quietly ushered Amos away before turning back to the barista for damage control. She felt twice as embarrassed as Amos himself as she did so.

"Erm- I think he's going a bit... senile?" she managed, before picking up the two drinks and hurriedly carrying them to the table where Amos had seated himself. Two drinks. Of course. Why hadn't that crossed her mind?

"Hi," smiled Cedric, who had just been sitting at the table the whole time. Surely he passed Maths in primary school? Did he even go to primary school? Why didn't any of these wizards know the muggle currency? Or at least basic maths? Such questions whizzed around her head as she forgot that Cedric had even said anything, and he looked up at her expectantly with his brows raised.

"Oh- uh- hi!" she replied, placing the drinks down on the table in front of the two. "Quite a mess you were in there, Mr Diggory,"

Mr Diggory simply waved his hand at her comment, "Call me Amos. And while you're at it, pull up a chair,"

Oh, Merlin. She didn't think she could bear to sit down at that table, cringing at the thought of everything that had taken place that night at the Quidditch World Cup. Well, not all of it made her cringe. But the good was clouded by the memory of her tears in the forest.

"Thank you, Mr- Amos," she said, flushing bright red. "It's just that I should really be meeting the Weasleys, they'll be worrying about me."

Did Cedric look disappointed at this? Grace couldn't help but think so, perhaps even hope so. 

"Well, I'll see you later then," replied Cedric, the smile returning to his face. He didn't want to scare her away, seeming too eager- he didn't know if she really returned his feelings, or if she was merely being polite that night. She had always been close with the Weasley twins, so he supposed there could be something there. That would explain why she hadn't responded to his letter the other day, the one that he had written to her to check in on her after missing the chance to say goodbye to her in the morning. By time he and his father woke up, the Weasleys' tents had already gone.

Shaking his head, he put all such thoughts out of his mind. He knew better than to jump to conclusions, especially in matters of the heart.

~*~

Once they had said goodbye to Bill, Charlie, and Mr and Mrs Weasley, Grace and her friends boarded the Hogwarts Express, just as the whistle was blowing. The twins and Grace filed into a compartment of their own, and Grace waved to those she had left on the platform. 

"Have you got everything Ron?" she bellowed, looking frantically at the compartment in which he was sitting with Ron and Hermione. "Don't forget you aren't coming home for Christmas this year. If you've forgotten anything- send an owl!" she continued, and then the train had set off and she was out of earshot.

"And thank Merlin for that," Grace huffed, closing the window as she dropped into the seat opposite the twins. She supposed she ought to tell them about the domestic with her parents this morning, and so she launched into her animated explanation, ending it with a groan of frustration.

The twins, perhaps for the first time in their lives, were speechless. Although they knew that her parents were barmy (to say the least!), never had they imagined that they would kick Grace out of her home. They knew the trouble that she had kept them out of over the years- despite contributing to their plans for pranks and gags, she generally limited the consequences by straightening up the edges of their more dangerous pranks, ensuring that the results would never truly be irreversible or harmful. She always got better grades than they did, usually perfect ones, and from what they had heard she had done rather well in her muggle exams, too. She was perfect, she had been their guardian angel of sorts. Any parent would be happy to have Grace- except, it seemed, for her own.

George merely shook his head, looking at Grace with sorrow. He truly felt awful for her as her eyes began to brim with tears. Both of the twins silently shifted on the bench to make space between them for her, Fred patting the spot they had cleared as he offered a sad smile to her. She reluctantly moved to sit between them, each of them putting an arm around her.

"Don't worry about it, Gracie," Fred said, with his best attempt at being reassuring. He wasn't used to being serious or comforting, but Grace was his best friend and it sort of made his heart ache to see her in such a state. "You can come live with us! You know mum and dad wouldn't mind, we'll just make Percy sleep in the garden and you can have his bedroom... permanently!" His attempt at making her smile was successful, and the corners of her lips tugged upwards slightly, though it didn't stop a solitary tear rolling down her cheek.

"Hey," George frowned, wiping her tear away with his sleeve. "It's not so bad. I mean, yeah, the room has some kind of deeply ingrained smell of vinegar from when Percy spends days at a time in there, but with a bit of deep-cleaning I'm sure we can make it survivable," he continued the light tone of his twin.

Grace laughed a little, sniffling. As expected after 6 years of friendship, the twins always knew exactly what to say to make her feel better. They didn't let her dwell on the sad things in life, rather they injected light and colour into everything they could. She hadn't a clue what she'd do without them, and she told them so.

"Well lucky for you, Gracie, much like Perce's vinegar-aroma, you can never get rid of us!" he declared, tapping her on the tip of her pointy nose.

~*~

Checking her watch, Grace saw it was almost 5 o'clock. Again, she had been lost in Emma, whilst Fred was snoring away on her right, and George had been peering over her left shoulder, occasionally reading excerpts of her book. He'd never ready any muggle literature, he explained. He didn't understand what they could possibly write about if they didn't have magical stories. So Grace went on to explain to him that, actually, some muggle books did contain magic; though they thought that it was about as real as the stories themselves. She went on to explain that, really, he wouldn't like Emma.

"It's all fluffy romance," she told him, placing the leather bookmark that he had given to her for her birthday a year years ago to mark her page, before closing the book and putting it on the bench opposite them. "Nothing, that would interest you."

He only chuckled softly at this- who said he didn't like romance? He was just too shy to get to that stage, that's all. George had had a couple of 'girlfriends', if you could even call them that, but for a reason that he thought he knew, they just never worked out. "You don't know that I wouldn't like it," he protested, pulling a mock-grumpy face, "Tell me what it's about,"

And so she explained Emma Woodhouse and her denial that she would ever find love despite the joy that matchmaking brought her, as well as all the finer details. She was surprised to see that, by the end of her long-winded summary, George hadn't joined Fred in a chorus of snores. He was still listening attentively, watching her studiously.

"I see," he said, thoughtfully. "So in the end she falls for the man who was there all along?" 

"Essentially, yes," she agreed. He had turned to look out the window, to hide a smirk, she assumed. But she couldn't see his face. "I know," she admitted, looking at her hands in her lap, "It's quite silly and oblivious. Surely they would notice before then if they were in love, they would know that they were right for each other,"

"You'd think so," George agreed quietly, still gazing out the window at the passing countryside.

They sat silently for a few more minutes, before Grace excused herself to change into her school robes. Closing the compartment door quietly behind her, so as not to awaken Fred, she headed down the corridor with her robes bundled in her arms to get changed in the bathroom.

Weirdly enough, she had always quite liked her uniform, she thought on her way back to the compartment- she felt proud to wear it, house colours and all. Though the house system had always confused her a little. She was ambitious as any Slytherin she knew, as fiercely loyal to her friends as any of the Hufflepuffs. And yet she was somehow expected to think of them as 'others', and even hate the Slytherins. She did not. Despite this, she thought she would quite like to be in Gryffindor; though she was not brave, she wished that she were, if only so she could join her best friends.

Lost in thought, Grace hadn't even noticed the tall, soft figure before her until she had collided with it. Before she could even fall back, a pair of strong arms had clasped her shoulders, cautious to be polite. Grace stuttered out an apology, assuring the figure that it was her fault for she had practically been on another planet. That was, until she met the kind, grey eyes looking down at her. 

Cedric chuckled softly, silencing her rambling apology. "It's fine, really," he told her. He took his arms from her shoulders, holding them out for her to observe. "See, you didn't even hurt me,"

She smiled up at him, being about a head shorter. "But as a prefect, I should remind you to watch where you're going, Wynfield," he added in a mock-serious tone. She slapped his upper arm lightly and he asked if she actually was trying to hurt him, because she still hadn't done a very good job.

"Never," she replied, and though she was grinning, she meant it. To see someone as jovial as Cedric sad, or in pain, would be too much for her- and even more so if she had been the cause.

He held out his hand, which she took, and led her down to a more secluded spot on the train. "I just wanted to say," he started, leaning against a window and avoiding her eyes. Though he meant every word that he has been mentally preparing himself to say for the past few days, he had no idea how to phrase it, or whether Grace would feel the same. "Well, I wanted to tell you that I meant what I said. And that I'd like to get to know you better." 

Grace could've sworn that he flushed as he said those words, his voice dropping slightly as his eyes quickly flitted between hers and his shoes. She squeezed his hand, which she was still holding, and their eyes met. "I'd like that, too," she smiled, "though I'm not sure that there's much to know about me,"

Vehemently, he shook his head at her suggestion. She interested him greatly. "I really doubt that, but if so, then I suppose we will have much more time to make memories,"

She couldn't help but reach up onto her tiptoes and wrap her arms around him. Where on earth did that confidence come from, she asked herself. However, once again her thought was interrupted when the train squealed to a halt, throwing them together and into the wall of the train, Cedric's hands meeting her waist to keep her steady. Seeing the slightly panicked look in his eyes, millimetres away from her own, Grace pulled away, brushing the invisible trace of his from her robes as she tried to hide her face. Words failed her.

"Well- uh- it was nice to see you again, Gracie," Cedric told her earnestly, a shy smile replacing his briefly wild look. "I suppose I'd better go and get on with perfect duties, but I'll see you later?" 

Nodding, Grace stepped away before hurrying back to her compartment and her best friends. What would she tell them when they asked where she'd been this whole time?


	5. Chapter 5

The entrance hall was buzzing with life as Grace, Cho Chang, and Marietta Edgecombe exited the Great Hall, following Dumbledore's speech and their feast.

"The Triwizard Tournament, hm?" said Cho, looking over at Grace. In her first year, Cho had been taken under Grace's wing; she had been frightened to start at the new school, scared of the academic pressure associated with being a Ravenclaw. Grace had assured her that, above anything else, Ravenclaw would be her family. And following on from that, Ravenclaw wasn't about achieving the best grades, but rather about valuing curiosity and puzzle-solving and a love for learning. Sure as the sun rose each morning, Cho would meet like-minded people in her house, as well as life-long friends. Of all of those friends, Grace had been the closest and most reliable ever since.

On the other hand, Grace has never really been a fan of Marietta. She had always struck her as being slightly snooty and gossipy, but without her own sense of self; Marietta would follow Cho wherever she went. Despite this, Grace had always made an effort with the ginger girl- that was until Marietta had made a snide remark about the Weasleys being poor last year, and Grace had decided she no longer had to try and like the girl. The only reason that she still hung around them was because Cho was simply too kind to ask the girl to leave, even when the jokes she made were at Cho's expense.

Grace pulled a sour face at this- she couldn't help thinking that it was ridiculous to revive a contest which risked the lives of children. "Dumbledore's off his head," she replied, turning the corner just ahead of Cho. "What's he thinking? Nothing, by the sound of it,"

Cho laughed at this, shaking her head. "I think everyone else is quite excited for it, Gracie. Maybe you should let loose," she suggested, which Grace met simply by arching one of her thick brows. "Dumbledore wouldn't put anyone in danger," she continued, sounding quite certain. Erm, didn't he literally let a teacher with the Dark Lord stuck on the back of his head into the school?, thought Grace, though she didn't say anything.

"Well, Dumbledore probably would. But the Ministry has had a hand in planning this, and I know they wouldn't," said Marietta, snottily. She glared over at Grace, adding "Maybe you should enter, Gracie!"

Wryly, Grace looked over at Marietta- as the eldest of the three, she decided she had to be the mature one, unless another comment about the Weasleys was made. Grace was nothing if not tolerant, but more than that she was loyal to the family which had shown her so much love. She considered what Marietta had just said- Grace might have had the knowledge needed to succeed, she didn't have the bravery, confidence, or athletic ability to be a champion. Furthermore, she couldn't imagine a possibility which would tempt her to enter; eternal glory was in no way tempting. The prize money, however... no, she thought, not even the prize money would be worth it. What good would a thousand galleons be if she wasn't even alive to spend it? Besides, she wasn't yet old enough to enter.

"Don't be daft," Grace replied, starting up the stairs, "Only a complete idiot would risk their life for a bit of money and eternal glory," she scoffed.

"Oi, we're only half-idiots!" protested Fred, who had snuck up behind her on her right, overhearing her conversation. Had they been seventeen, Grace might have been worried by this. However, the twins wouldn't turn seventeen for another seven months, so she knew they wouldn't even get to enter- it had been her first thought when Dumbledore had announced it.

"No, she has a point," accepted George, who had now appeared on her left, slinging an arm around her. "Two halves make a whole, so I suppose together we make a complete idiot,"

"A whole and a bit," Fred corrected, pointed a long finger at Grace. Of course, they weren't complete without her.

Grace shrugged out from George's arm to reach up and slap Fred playfully up the side of the head, before turning back to George. "I'm surprised you know that two halves make a whole," she teased, "Have you been working on your maths over the summer?"

"Yes, Mrs. Wynfield," they drawled in unison, mocking the bored tones of children in classes. At that, Grace shoved George back down the stairs, catching him by his tie at the last moment to stop him from falling, as he grasped at her arm in an attempt to pull her with him.

They nearly knocked into Marietta, who huffed before telling them to stop pissing about on the stairs, sending the pair into fits of laughter. "Tell your mum I saved your life," she said to George, before turning and hurrying to catch up with the other two girls.

~*~

When they returned back to their dorms, Grace lounged on Cho's bed as she and Marietta unpacked their things. Grace had decided that she could unpack later, since she didn't really have much to unpack. For now, she simply wanted to catch up with her friend, who she hadn't seen all summer. In fact, they hadn't sent very many owls to each other either- Grace's parents had never let her get her own owl, thinking them dirty creatures, and they weren't best pleased when the owls of her friends began showing up at the house. As such, she had had to limit her communication with her friends during the holidays.

"So," Cho said, when she had finished vividly retelling every single detail of her summer, and was unpacking the last of her textbooks, "how was your summer?"

Casting her mind back, Grace could hardly find anything of note to tell her. She felt somewhat ashamed, actually. Just before summer began, she had taken her muggle examinations, as her parents had wished. Between then and receiving her results in August, there really wasn't much to say. She had read a few books, gotten new textbooks for her next set of muggle exams (which she certainly wouldn't be taking now, regardless of what her parents said), and been to the seaside for a week with her parents. In fact, nothing interesting had really happened until the last week of the summer, when she had gone to the Burrow.

"Boring," she replied nonchalantly, shifting up to make room for Cho on the bed. Marietta was making a point of not listening, now that the topic of conversation had shifted away from herself.

Cho rolled her eyes with exasperation. She knew that she'd been to the Quidditch World Cup, as she had briefly seen Harry and the Weasleys, and she had spotted Cedric staring over at them during the feast. Well, Cho would have liked to have thought that Cedric was staring at her, actually, but she was certain he had been staring at Grace, and she drew the conclusion that something must have transpired.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head at the girl with a grin, "That's not true. One word- Cedric Diggory,"

At this, Grace couldn't help but laugh, though she was blushing slightly. "That's two words, love," she corrected, looking down at her hands in her lap. Cho whined at this, pouting. She wouldn't give up until she knew everything. Knowing this, Grace began, "Fine, I suppose it wasn't so bad," she conceded, before launching into a long explanation about what had happened at the Quidditch World Cup, cutting out some of the more embarrassing, teary parts- better not to give Marietta anything to tell. Cho gasped, shrieked, and laughed at all the right parts; but though she was happy for her friend, she couldn't help feeling somewhat envious of her older friend.

Marietta, on the other hand, felt absolutely scandalised! Cedric was a prefect, a pureblood (or pretty close, she had heard), the top of his class, and undoubtedly the most attractive boy at school. His face was carved like a statue of a Greek god. And Grace was just Grace.

Once Grace was done gushing, it was getting late. She hugged Cho, telling her how much she had missed her over summer, before heading to her own dorm.

~*~

"That's it?" asked Grace, sceptically, looking between the twins who she was sitting opposite. It was a Saturday a few weeks into term, and she had paused from spreading the jam on her toast as they had finished the explanation of their elaborate plan to bypass the age line drawn by Dumbledore.

"Yep," Fred said smugly, popping the p. "Good idea, isn't it?" he added, wiggling his eyebrows at her whilst George watched her expectantly.

Now, Grace knew this was a rhetorical question- they were obviously very proud of their little scheme. But it wouldn't work, she knew that Dumbledore wouldn't have overlooked such a gaping loophole. She wasn't sure, however, whether or not to tell them; of course their pride would be wounded when it failed, but if she didn't tell them then they would have no time to think of a plan that might work and actually risk their lives.

After a bit of um-ing and ah-ing, she decided she ought to tell them. "No," she said simply, resuming her task of spreading jam on her toast. She had seen Ron, sitting to the side of Fred, eyeing her toast, and so she sighed and dropped a slice onto his plate. He smiled appreciatively. "It's not going to work,"

Hermione beamed at this. "I told you!" she said to Harry and Ron in a sing-song voice. They must have run the plan by the trio before they consulted Grace, knowing that she did not approve of their entry into the tournament. Fred and George shared a disappointed look, before seemingly making a silent revelation. They turned back to Grace, grinning.

"Fine, it won't work," Fred allowed. "But you could help us to make it work,"

Grace put the toast that she had been about to bite down on her plate, giving the boys a stern look. "No, absolutely not," she said firmly. Whilst she couldn't exactly stop them from trying to enter, she certainly wouldn't be helping them. Though they would think this was mean, to Grace it was a true measure of how much she cared for the boys. Sure, they would be disappointed that she wouldn't help, and they might even ignore her for a while- but she would much rather them ignore her than get seriously injured. Reading about the history of the tournament had scared her- kept her up at night even. Cho thought it was dramatic, however the idea that such a dangerous event would be going on, involving people she knew- it was scary, there was no denying that. No wonder she was in Ravenclaw and not Gryffindor.

"Please," George said, looking at his best friend with pleading eyes. She had never denied them anything that they had asked before, and she had helped them with every little scheme they had ever concocted. He didn't understand why she wouldn't help now.

"Why on earth would I help to endanger you? Can't you see I just want you to be safe?" she retorted, starting to get quite irate. She could feel tears stinging her eyes slightly; she hated that she cried when she was frustrated. She had always known the twins were daring, but this was a flat out lack of common sense, this was recklessness.

Mirroring his brother's look, Fred practically begged Grace. Surely she couldn't say no to them. "Gracie, you know what that money would mean to us," he said, in a quieter voice than before. "We lost all our savings to that git, Bagman, and this could be our chance to win them back. We'd finally have enough for the shop,"

This struck Grace- she did feel terrible about them losing their money, but she had warned them against betting it and they hadn't listened. She wished she could help them in some way, for she knew that opening the joke shop was their life-long dream. But Grace scarcely had a galleon to her name, having converted the little that she had made working at the local bookshop that summer into wizarding currency. Before she was sixteen, she had done paper rounds in an attempt to save some money up, though it didn't amount to much. Still, she'd give every penny of it to twins if it would stop them from entering, and she told them so.

"You know that we can't take your money, Gracie," George answered, looking serious for one of the few times in his life. He reached out across the table to take her hands in his, however she pulled them away, glaring at the two.

"And you know that I can't do this."

"Everything okay?" a voice said from behind Grace. Fred and George immediately looked down like scolded children as Cedric sat down next to Grace, turning the top half of his body towards her as he had sat facing outwards on the bench. Offering a weak smile, Grace explained the twins' stupid idea to enter the Triwizard Tournament. A potion to age them up definitely wouldn't surpass Dumbledore's age line.

"Oh, yeah," Cedric agreed, looking over at the twins. "There's no way that that would work,"

Fred rolled his eyes at this, clearly not wanting Cedric's input on the matter. "Right, well, thanks for stating the obvious," George muttered, looking down at the table in embarrassment. He knew that Grace was one of the smartest in the year, but somehow it was much more berating to hear it from Cedric. George supposed that Cedric would have a much better idea- not that he needed it, the ponce was old enough to enter. Why did he have to be so perfect?

"Wait a minute, Gracie," Fred ordered, as she had begun to slide out of the bench, intending to leave the table which had suddenly become very awkward. She obeyed, leaning against the table and raising an eyebrow, awaiting his explanation. Fred felt like a child- though he was much taller than Grace, she was now towering over him as she was standing and he was sitting, and he couldn't help feeling slightly intimidated by her. "Well, it's just that you're having a go at us for trying to enter, but you haven't said a peep to Cedric about him entering," he said, trying his best to sound matter-of-fact about it.

This was news to Grace. Somehow she had managed to avoid discussing the tournament with Cedric altogether, and she had simply assumed that his common sense equaled hers in that he would not want to enter a tournament with a death toll. Apparently not, she thought, but she wasn't about to allow Fred to get the better of her, so she simply tried to pass off the fact that she was flushing as anger.

"You are my best friends and I'm trying to keep you out of a potentially lethal tournament, sorry if that's so very unreasonable," she hissed, stepping over the bench. A few heads had begun to turn their way, and she felt embarrassed at the spectacle she had created. She took a deep breath. Never before had she been able to stay mad at the twins; she thought it was probably impossible. No matter what, they would always work through their arguments, or at least forget them and be laughing five minutes later. "I'll see you later."

With that, she walked away, Cedric following after her after, giving an apologetic smile to her friends left at the table.

"Smug bastard," muttered George, watching Cedric with envy in his eyes as he caught up to Grace and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Think of it this way," Ron reasoned, through a mouthful of toast, "she doesn't want you to enter because she doesn't want you to get hurt-"

"Or die," interjected Hermione, looking up from her book.

"...Or die," allowed Ron, though he thought that part had been fairly obvious. "Maybe she's not so bothered about Cedric, and wouldn't mind him getting bumped off," He offered sincerely.

Though they were still annoyed about the situation, Fred and George laughed at this.

~*~

Out in the courtyard, Grace had sat down on a bench under a tree, looking down at the floor to avoid Cedric's gaze as he joined her. "Sorry about that," she mumbled, ashamed. She hadn't meant to get so angry at the twins, but she couldn't help it- why couldn't they see reason?

"It's fine," Cedric reassured her, leaning back on the wooden bench. "You're worried about them, it's only normal,"

She met his eyes then. "I'm worried about you, too," She shifted uncomfortably, playing with a loose thread on her jumper sleeve. It wasn't quite cold enough to be wearing jumpers yet, as it was only September, but Grace was always cold. The twins always poked fun at her for it, and her lack of forethought to bring a jumper or a jacket- but despite that, they always gladly lent her their own without her asking. "Is it true that you're entering?"

Guiltily, Cedric let out a small sigh. He had been trying to keep it from her, knowing that she would disapprove of his decision. Of course she would, because she had basic common sense. He didn't think that he would be chosen anyway, so he had told himself that it didn't matter much, though he knew this wasn't true. "Yeah," he answered quietly.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry for not telling you. I didn't think anyone would find out really, unless I got picked. My friends must've spread it about."

"Right."

"I know what you're thinking," he told her, somewhat guiltily.

"That you're an idiot?" she offered, though she didn't mean it. Her previous anger had been replaced with a sort of sad concern.

Cedric couldn't help smiling a bit at that. She wasn't wrong, he thought, it was quite stupid. "Pretty much," he said. "But I should explain why-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to," he reassured her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear gently. "I know entering is stupid, and dangerous, and wreckless,"

"That's kind of the opposite of an explanation to why you're entering, surely," Grace retorted, trying to mask her sadness with humour. It was ineffective.

"I'm entering for my father's sake," he told her, and her attempt at humour disappeared as his words hung in the brisk September air. "To make him proud of me,"

Grace couldn't help but feel guilty for criticising him. She thought she might do anything to make her parents proud, were that still possible. Were she not seen as some abnormality, being forced to make the decision between a life that brought her happiness and a life that would make her parents proud. She wished that she had parents that she could make proud.

"I get that."

"I know it's stupid," he admitted, looking down at the space between them on the wooden bench. "It's just that he's very traditional, and you saw him at the World Cup."

Grace recalled him bragging about Cedric's athletic prowess, how he had beaten Harry in Quidditch last year. She thought it must be exhausting, living up to his father's standards- it was bad enough for her, and somehow she still managed to be the family disappointment.

"That eternal glory means far more to him than it ever would to me," he went on. "It's not like we need the money or anything, but if I won- no, even if I was picked as the Hogwarts champion- he would be so proud. Sure, he'd never shut up about it, and all his Ministry friends would hate me even more, always hearing my name-" they laughed, "but... he would be proud. It would make him happy."

Taking a deep breath, Grace reached out to squeeze his hand. "I understand, though I can't believe that he isn't already very proud of you. If you're always working to please him, you'll never please yourself. Not to mention the whole 'flying too close to the sun', thing- when will it be enough?" she asked, earnestly. Though she knew he was capable of winning, of course, it didn't seem like he wanted this. His father would never be satisfied, he would keep asking for more and more; she knew Cedric was too agreeable to ever tell him 'no'.

He smiled at her, interlacing their fingers and setting their hands on his knee, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Nothing is ever enough for him," he admitted, sighing softly. "In a couple of years, when the so-called eternal glory has worn off, he'll have me following him into a bloody Ministry job,"

"And you don't want that?" she asked. He shook his head. "What is it that you want to do?"

After thinking for a few moments, Cedric answered that he didn't really know. He liked to draw, he admitted bashfully, and he would quite like to illustrate books for wizard children. But he knew this was unlikely, not only because of his father's pride.

"No, that's sweet," Grace had assured him, smiling as she leaned her head on his shoulder. In all honesty, she thought it was adorable. The way his eyes had lit up as he had explained to her, gesturing wildly with his hands to help convey his ideas. The way his cheeks had flushed slightly, as he felt embarrassed about talking about his dreams aloud. The way the smile had played on his lips.

And so they stayed there for a while, talking about their plans for the future and their respective families. Cedric was appalled to hear everything about Grace's parents, in particular the fact that they had kicked her out. He couldn't believe that her parents weren't proud of her- after all, she matched, and often beat, his grades. And not to mention the fact that she was studying her muggle subjects alongside her wizarding studies. Cedric simply thought that she was brilliant. He admired her work ethic, her strength to stay as positive as she was under all of this pressure. She deserved much better, he thought.

"You could stay with us, you know," he told her, twirling a strand of her curly hair around his pinky finger as she still leaned against him. "You could come over for Easter,"

"Really?" she asked, shock colouring her tone as she looked up at him with hopeful eyes. She had been planning to stay with the Weasleys, but she didn't want to become a burden to them. If she spent Easter with the Diggory family, perhaps she wouldn't feel so guilty for staying with the Weasleys for the whole of next summer. Plus, both families lived relatively close, so she could still visit Ginny and the twins. "Would your parents let me?"

"I don't see why not," he answered confidently. "Not if I ask them."

"I'd like to take you out into the real world," she told him, thoughtfully. "The muggle world, I mean. Show you how us common people live,"

He laughed, considering this. It was true that he hadn't had much exposure with it, with this father literally being unable to understand muggle currency in the coffee shop. In all honesty, he'd never needed to be exposed to it- everything dear to him had been in the wizarding world. But now, he couldn't help but feel intrigued, by this girl and by her world. To understand her, he'd need to understand her world. "Right then," he decided, "We'll have a day trip or something, if I pass my apparition test by then I can take us, otherwise my d-"

She shook her head, grinning. "Nuh-uh, Diggory. We're doing it the muggle way, we can get the train. And it won't be anywhere you've been anyway, I'm taking you up north!"

Before he could respond, they were interrupted by Hermione, shaking a box of badges at them. "Hi, Gracie. Cedric." she said, nodding at them. She wasn't smiling as she usually would when she saw Grace, and she seemed a little out of breath. They both straightened up, Cedric leaning forward to look at the badges.

"Hey, what's up?" asked Grace, offering a comforting smile to the younger girl. Grace had always liked Hermione, ever since they had been introduced; Grace saw herself in the younger girl, feeling a strange urge to protect her from the snide comments made by the others. She had told Ron off many a time for his treatment of her, and even had a word or two with Draco after he had called her a filthy mudblood last year. Though Hermione was strong and could certainly fend for herself, Grace couldn't help seeing both her and Ginny like younger sisters, and had reserved a few words of her own for that slimy git. She didn't subscribe to the belief that the children of death eaters were inherently evil- she was nothing like her own parents- but there was really no reason for him to pick on Hermione like he did, on his own accord.

"I'm glad you asked!" Hermione exclaimed frustratedly, before launching into an explanation of her newfound society for the protection of elfish welfare.

"Spew?" asked Cedric, apprehensively.

"S.P.E.W" Hermione corrected, a sharp edge to her voice, "And it's actually a very serious matter, Cedric. How would you like to be enslaved, not even paid to serve your masters? To slave away all day, only to be told you can't use magic and lose your job over something that's not even your fault-"

Grace stood up, wrapping an arm around the younger girl to calm her down. She knew that the whole debacle with Winky at the Quidditch World Cup had opened her own eyes when the twins had told her of it, and it had clearly had the same effect on Hermione. "Of course, 'Mione, it's diabolical. I can't believe how stuck in their ways some of these people are."

Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath as her red face returned to its usual shade. "And Ron and Harry just brushed it off," she grumbled, "He told me they like being enslaved."

"I suppose they don't know anything but being forced to work," Cedric accepted. Hermione shot him a sharp look, clearly about to lecture him about how that didn't make it okay, but Cedric wasn't finished. "Which is even worse. They've been enslaved so long that they don't even realise they want and deserve freedom,"

Hermione's face softened as she heard him say this. "So, you'll join?" she asked, hopefully. So far she had struggled to get any of her friends to join, and she was relieved that Grace shared her good sense. She thought Harry might have been more understanding- he had freed Dobby, hadn't he? Why was Dobby any different to the other house elves, who were probably treated just as badly?

"Of course," Grace said, reaching into her pocket to fish out the 2 sickles fee for joining. But Cedric beat her to it, dropping a galleon into Hermione's hand before picking out two badges. He reached down to pin one to Grace's jumper, before donning his own.

"Oh, thank you!" Hermione beamed, hugging each of them tightly. Grace's heart was warmed- she couldn't believe that Hermione's best friends would be so dismissive of something that she was passionate about, especially a cause as important as this. She made a mental note to mention that to Harry later.

"Let me know if you need any help with organisation," Grace told Hermione, eager to help. But Hermione told them that they were now officially members of the executive board of S.P.E.W. before she hurried towards a group of second year Hufflepuffs who were dawdling past them.


	6. Chapter 6

Grace looked uncomfortable in her seat opposite Cho at the Ravenclaw table. Though the Halloween feast was grand, she pushed her food around her plate, not hearing a word that Cho was rambling on about to the girls who were sitting next to them. It was their second feast in two days, and the novelty was beginning to wear off a bit.

The delegation from Beauxbatons had arrived only the day before, but many of them seemed to have made fast-friends with the Ravenclaws, who were very interested to learn more about both their culture and their school. Grace was vaguely aware of a mesmerising French lilt floating around to her right, and she was sure she had heard two girls speaking in Spanish. Despite having studied it for her muggle exams, Grace wasn't concentrating enough to make out much of the conversation.

She was, however, snapped out of her daze as a dainty hand with a delicate silver ring on it waved gently in front of her face.

"'Ello?" came a voice from her right side. Turning, Grace took in the beauty of the blonde girl, speechless for a second as she met a pair of amethyst eyes gazing down on her. She reminded Grace of an actress from muggle films of the 1950s- she looked almost elven in her small frame, but she was astonishingly beautiful and elegant. Grace Kelly, that was it; she remembered having seen the Princess of Monaco in High Society with her grandmother when she was younger, and couldn't help but see a striking resemblance between her and the young lady sitting next to her. Surely it had to be some sort of magic, Grace thought.

"Oh- hello," Grace replied, smiling at the girl, though inwardly she couldn't help remembering the cause of her anxiety. They would soon be drawing the names of the victors from the Goblet of Fire. Grace had thought back on all the years that she had attended church with her grandparents as a child, and hoped that whatever powers may be would grant her wish of not selecting Cedric. She wasn't even sure that she did believe in a higher power, but she thought it wouldn't hurt to ask. She even vowed to ask for nothing else, so long as Cedric was kept safe.

See, Grace couldn't help herself; though she had heard of the Triwizard Tournament before, it had only been briefly. These past few weeks she had tormented herself, reading up about the event in great detail. She recalled having read about a cockatrice going on a rampage, injuring the judges of the panel- not to mention the fact that it was cancelled because of a _death toll-_ and her stomach churned. Dumbledore really was out of his mind.

"Are you okay? You are looking... very pale," said the girl with a frown. The frown didn't suit her, thought Grace, for she was much prettier when she was smiling.

"Don't worry about it," Grace assured her, attempting to brush off the girl's concern. "This is Scotland, we don't see the sun much,"

The French girl's face lit up as she chuckled, covering her mouth. "This is true. But I know it is something more than that. How are you called?"

Grace introduced herself, and the girl shook her hand, telling her that she was called Fleur Delacour. She was surprisingly strong, Grace thought, and especially charismatic. Grace found herself opening up to the girl, if only slightly, about why she hadn't touched her food.

"I would not worry," Fleur said, laying a hand on her shoulder gently and offering a warm smile. "Everything 'appens for a reason, no?"

This was quite a daft thing to say- lots of things happened every day that had no rhyme or reason behind them, or that hurt people. That was life, Grace supposed. But something about the way that Fleur said it made it almost believable, and she managed to eat a small portion from the feast before Dumbledore called everyone's attention to him. It was time.

At the front of the hall, the headmaster approached the goblet, announcing that those selected should then leave the hall for a short briefing. Karkaroff and Madame Maxine watched him expectantly, as did all the students in the room. Grace cast a nervous look towards the Hufflepuff table, where hordes of students surrounded Cedric, buzzing with excitement. Instantly, Cedric met her gaze and gave her a shy smile. Despite all the attention he received, she still managed to make him feel shy and flustered. Trying and failing to match his smile, she turned back to Dumbledore.

_The champion for Dumstrang will be Viktor Krum!_

Interesting, thought Grace- Ron had been absolutely fanatical about seeing Krum at the Quidditch World Cup, and a smile twitched on her lips as she remembered the twins' silly little ditty about him. Krum left his spot at the Slytherin table and walked confidently past the staff table and into the next chamber. He was undeniably handsome, if not a bit grumpy-looking.

_The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!_

This was a shock to Grace, for the girl next to her hadn't even mentioned putting her name in. She supposed it made sense as everyone from Durmstrang had entered themselves, and so must the students from Beauxbatons- some of the girls at the table were even crying, which was a bit dramatic, really. Grace offered a smile to Fleur, who rose gracefully from her seat. The eyes of all the world seemed to be glued to Fleur as she glided through the Great Hall- Grace could have sworn that she saw Ron wipe a bit of dribble from his chin as he watched her, and she giggled as George met her eyes, having seen it too. Unlike Fred, he wasn't staring at Fleur, she thought, else he wouldn't have noticed Ron's little embarrassment. This was almost mind-boggling, since even Grace had struggled to pull her eyes away from Fleur.

The room went absolutely silent. Dumbledore approached the goblet of fire for the third and final time to select the Hogwarts champion.

Not Cedric, she thought, _please_ not Cedric.

_The Hogwarts champion is..._

God, if you exist, please not Cedric.

No such luck.

_Cedric Diggory!_

The room erupted in cheers as students from all houses rose from their seats. The Hufflepuffs were the loudest of them all, cheering and whooping as they clapped Cedric on the back. Though he smiled, he shared a look with Grace that told her he was just as scared as she was, before donning his mask and looking back at the swarm of supporters behind him. It was a struggle to make it out of the crowd but he eventually did, pressing a quick kiss to Grace's cheek before moving to stand by Viktor and Fleur. A bright flush spread across her face as she realised what had just happened, and Cho simply looked at her, gaping.

"Well done, Cedric!" squealed Cho. He nodded at her, happy that she was happy for him, but wishing it was Grace. He understood why she wasn't, of course- he wasn't sure how he even felt about it himself.

As the cheers eventually died down and everyone returned to their seats, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began to make a speech. He was interrupted, however, when the goblet began to glow red again, as if it was about to spit out yet another name.

And it did.

Dumbledore reached for the small piece of paper as it fluttered from the flaming goblet. A grim look washed over his face as he unfolded the paper and read the name from it: "Harry Potter."

Immediately, hundreds of heads turned to look around at the Gryffindor table, and Grace was no exception. She heard mutters of annoyance, in particular from the Hufflepuff table. Why couldn't Harry let someone else have the glory for once? Why was he taking away the only recognition that their house had had in years?

But Grace knew that Harry would never have entered his name into the goblet of fire. He didn't want this attention- as if he hadn't been sick of it for the past three years! Nothing good could come of this; Grace suspected foul play. She looked at the twins solemnly, but they were as happy as the Hufflepuffs had been when Cedric was selected. Harry looked shocked, Ron furious, and Hermione equally as scared as Grace felt.

The decision of the goblet was final, though, so that was that: Harry was the second Hogwarts champion.

Grace decided she wouldn't go to the Hufflepuff common room, where they would inevitably be holding a party in his honour. The Hufflepuffs got little representation, and the best of it was usually from Cedric, their golden boy. Grace couldn't help smiling at this; everyone loved him, and she could see why.

She headed back to her own common room, which was still empty. This puzzled her slightly- surely Cho and Marietta would be there, at least. Unless they had been invited to the Hufflepuff party, too. She considered going, but decided it was best not to infringe on Cedric's glory, to let him enjoy himself instead of bringing him down.

After heading up to her dorm, she decided she would get an early night. When changing, she realised there was a little piece of paper folded up in her pocket. Weird, she thought, she didn't remember putting that there.

Unfolding it, she couldn't keep the grin from spreading across her face. It was a drawing of her- though the artist had been very generous in making her look that lovely, she was sure. For such a small drawing, it was quite detailed, and she saw the tree which she so often sat underneath in the background. Cedric must have drawn it for her, she thought, as she placed it beneath the book on her nightstand. He must have slipped it into her pocket earlier, when he had kissed her cheek.

_He kissed her cheek._

Grace couldn't help flushing as she remembered this. He had kissed her- albeit on the cheek- in front of everyone. She couldn't fathom what it was like for him, to be adored by everyone, and still to choose her. A stroke of good luck, she thought. Maybe she would believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope you're enjoying my fic, please leave a comment or a kudos if you are : ) Wishing you all a lovely holiday season <3


	7. Chapter 7

Cedric, shirking his responsibilities as prefect for the afternoon, had decided to join Grace for lunch at the Ravenclaw table. She thought it would be better not to sit at the Gryffindor table with him- not only did the twins still hold a grudge for his Quidditch victory last year, but there was a bit of rivalry going on between the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors since Harry had been selected as the fourth champion. She knew he hadn't put his own name in, though Cedric was still a bit sceptical about this.

"I've known him since he started here," she explained, "and I know he wouldn't go to such extremes to risk his life. I mean, he's never really had to try before,"

"He's a nutter, the whole Ministry thinks so," said Marietta, through a mouth of food. Somehow it was far more repulsive when she did it than when Ron did it, even if she didn't spray half of it across the table.

"Yeah, and the Ministry is always right about everything, I suppose?" Grace retorted, rolling her eyes. Cedric looked a bit awkward.

"I don't think he's mad. He seems nice, honestly. I feel rather sorry for him," Cho said sympathetically, looking over at the Gryffindor table where Harry was sitting. Ron still wasn't speaking to him, and it seemed to be getting him down.

"He is nice. Must be terrified, as well," Cedric agreed. "I don't know if he entered himself or what, I mean, who else would want to?"

"Probably another teacher with the dark lord on the back of his head?" offered Grace, sipping her pumpkin juice as they all laughed at this.

Marietta glared after Cedric and Grace as they excused themselves, wanting to go to the library so she could pick up a book before lesson. Cho caught on to this and questioned her about it.

"Well, don't you just think it's weird?" she said, sounding a bit disgusted. "What does he want with her anyway?"

Cho's mouth gaped open a bit, and she looked indignant. "Why wouldn't he?! Grace is lovely, and he seems to really like her,"

This made Marietta scoff. "You really think so? Because I don't. She's nothing like him, all quiet and weird, always tagging along with those ginger freaks,"

"Oh, don't be so awful,"

"You're only saying that because you know it's true, Cho. And anyway, she's a muggleborn. God, it must be boring for him. He'd be way better suited to someone else- like you, for example,"

Cho blushed a bit at this. She did sort of like him, but she'd never mentioned it to her friends- nothing more than commenting on how attractive he was, which she probably did for most of the boys in their year or above. She couldn't even think of anything to say to her friend.

"If he was so interested, he'd have asked her out by now. She'd be better off going back to those Weasleys. He's a champion, all she does is try to hold him back because she thinks she's so sensible and mature. Can't stand her." Marietta finished, chugging the rest of her pumpkin juice.

"What was that?" Grace exclaimed as she doubled over with laughter in the courtyard. Cedric looked bashful, but he was laughing, too. A group of girls had begged him to sign their bags as they left the library, fawning over him and casting glares in Grace's direction. She wasn't bothered- it's not like she had some claim over him, anyway. However she did think it was a bit mad of the girls, who had always liked him (but never quite so much), to ask him to sign their bags. And of course, kind as he was, he had done it.

"What can I say, I'm a very popular guy," he laughed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Too bad for them that I'm all about you," he added, blushing a little.

She blushed, too. "Huh, they'll be wanting a scrap with me any time soon. Fighting for your honour!"

"Do me a favour and win, will you?" he teased, as they headed towards the bench beneath the tree. They had sat there frequently since that first time, finding it gave them a good view of the courtyard. The leaves had turned a warm orange and fallen, rustling around their feet.

"I'll do my best,"

~*~

Over breakfast at the Gryffindor table, Grace and her friends were reading Skeeter's latest article on the Triwizard champions in The Daily Prophet. She leaned over George's plate to get a look at the article, almost dipping her hair in the marmalade before he gently pushed it back behind her ear.

"Thanks," she said, not taking her eyes off the paper. She scanned it for a few more seconds, not making it past a few lines before giving it up as a bad job. "What a load of shit! Almost as bad as the muggle tabloids," she said, looking at Hermione, who nodded back at her.

"She's made you look a right mug, Harry," agreed Fred. "I mean, it's just all about you-" Ron snorted humourlessly, "-and your tragic backstory and going out with Hermione."

"Yeah, and everyone knows you like Cho," laughed George, returning to it.

Harry flushed, before looking at Grace. "I bet Cedric's not happy either, they hardly even mentioned him until-"

Fred shushed him, "I haven't got to the end yet, Harry, I'm still reading about your troubled past as a delinquent wizard,"

Suddenly, George closed the paper, throwing it to his left so Grace couldn't read the last part.

"What is it?" she asked, concerned. George looked angrier than she'd seen him before.

"The last line, is it?" Fred said. George just nodded. Hermione and Harry were suddenly very interested in their breakfast, and Grace leaned over to try and pick up the newspaper before Fred snatched it out of her reach.

"I can just get a copy from somewhere else, you know," she told him. Why couldn't she read it? Whatever it was, it couldn't be so bad. Fred sighed, opening the paper up.

"...Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school. And he's not the only champion with his eye on a Muggle-born. There must be something in the water at Hogwarts these days- what would daddy say, Cedric?"

Grace set her drink down. "Erm... charming woman, isn't she?" She felt awkward, but what could she do? Cedric hardly even got a mention, except for that little part. If anyone, she felt sorry for him.

Her friends relaxed a little, glad to see she was unphased by it.

"Well, I should probably go and find him," she told them, standing up from the bench. "I'll see you lot later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter one, but we're nearly at the first task now!


	8. Chapter 8

On the morning of the first task, Grace was exhausted. She had stayed up most of the night, reading about different types of dragons in an attempt to help Cedric with the first challenge. Harry had asked her to tell Cedric what the task was, since he was unable to get Cedric alone- having said that Grace hadn't had an easy time in doing so either. His friends, who relentlessly poked fun of Harry and wore those _stupid_ "Potter Stinks" badges, rarely gave the two a minute alone. It was very nearly driving Grace mad.

But she had scarcely slept a wink last night, remembering the flicker of panic in his eyes when he had found out that the task would be dragons. He didn't have the first clue of what to do, and for perhaps the first time in her life neither did Grace. She had cast her mind back to all the times she had met Charlie, the infallibly cool older brother of the twins.Though he had spoken lots about his work in Romania (and scarcely anything else) when they had met, she struggled to remember anything of use now. Not wanting to waste the night tossing and turning, she had stayed up all night pouring over books, hoping to find just one thing that might be of use to Cedric.

As soon as the other girls in her dorm started to wake up, Grace was ready to leave for breakfast, where she continued to scan the thick books she had borrowed from the library.

"C'mon, eat something," Fred said, pushing his plate towards her.

"Can't. Reading." she muttered, not looking up from the old book.

George nudged her shoulder. "You look really tired, Gracie. Like you've been up all night. If _you_ haven't found anything by now, it's probably impossible to,"

She sighed, closing the book. Dust puffed out of the pages, and she had to apologise profusely to Ron who was complaining that she'd ruined his toast. He was so grumpy these days, she thought- he and Harry needed to make up already.

"I guess,"

"Look, I wouldn't worry about it. What's the worst that could happen?" George said, offering her a reassuring smile.

"The _best_ that could happen is that he gets eaten by a dragon," Fred said, but when Grace met him with a glare (and Harry met this with a shudder), he added, "Only joking. He might be an idiot, but I _suppose_ he's athletic. That'll be on his side,"

Grace nodded, before realising that people around them had begun heading to lessons. She stood up, and George picked up her heavy stack of books.

"What a gentleman!" she snickered, slipping in between the twins as they walked to their first class of the day, Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"This ought to be good," Fred said, amusedly watching Moody hobble along to their class.

Grace sat on the end of the row, George to her right, and Fred and Angelina next to him. She was somewhat distracted by the prospect of the first class, and George wasted the whole lesson trying to make her laugh, or at least smile. He was enchanting random items off of Moody's desk, levitating them to the ceiling. Luckily, Moody seemed equally as distracted and didn't even realise. They had merely been instructed to answer a few questions from the blackboard for the entirety of the lesson, something which Grace completed almost immediately.

~*~

When Grace and the twins arrived at the Great Hall for lunch, Cedric was just leaving, approaching Grace with a nervous-looking smile.

"Come on, this is our cue to leave," Fred said, pulling his twin away and throwing a wink at Grace over his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" she asked Cedric, as they moved to the side to avoid the crowds of students heading towards the hall. A few of them clapped Cedric on the shoulder as they passed, wishing him the best of luck for the task which would take place shortly.

"Well, a bit terrified, if I'm honest," he admitted, looking slightly embarrassed to admit it. Grace nodded, understanding. "I'm supposed to be heading there now, but first I wanted to give you this," he told her, as he unwrapped the yellow Hufflepuff scarf from around his neck and hung it around hers. It smelt like vanilla and oud wood and butterbeer, Grace thought, and it was still warm from him wearing it.

"I thought this way you'd have something to show your support for me," he told her, smiling shyly. "Unless you're hoping the dragon eats me. I bequeath you all of my books,"

She scrunched up her nose at this, so oddly similar to what Fred had said earlier, a smile playing on her lips. "Sorry I couldn't find anything to help you. I stayed up all night and-"

He frowned at this, lifting her chin with his index finger, noting the dark circles under her eyes. "I see that. You shouldn't have, honestly,"

"Too late for that now, hm? Anyway, luckily for you I don't think the dragon would want to eat you. You'd probably seduce it and it would want to keep you," she laughed.

Momentarily forgetting his fear, he laughed heartily at this. "Do you think I could?"

"Sure, look at your horde of admirers," she said, nodding towards a group of third years who looked like they were about to hyperventilate when Cedric glanced over at them.

"I'm asking you," he replied in a low voice.

The two walked towards the tent by the edge of the forest, hand in hand. Cedric was taking quick and shallow breaths, clearly not as confident about the task as all of his supporters were. Whenever one of those supporters would pass and wish him luck, he would flash them his perfect smile and thank them- but Grace could see the panic in his eyes, and by the time they reached the tent he was almost silent.

"You'll be fine, Ced," Grace told him, though she was saying it in an attempt to convince herself, too. Despite her fears, she knew deep down that Cedric always achieved at whatever he set his mind to. "You know you will,"

"Of course," he sighed, trying to believe her. "How couldn't I be, with my good luck charm supporting me?"

She laughed at this. Grace had never believed in luck, perhaps because she didn't feel she had had her fair share of it.

" _I'm_ your good luck charm?" she asked in disbelief. "Unless you were talking about someone else and I've just made a tit of myself, obviously,"

"Yes, you," he smirked, forgetting his fear for a moment. "Haven't I been lucky to find you? Haven't I had the best luck since I did?"

"Oh, yeah, facing a dragon probably makes you the luckiest boy in our year," she quipped- though she immediately cringed as she realised her error in resurfacing his anxieties.

As she scrambled for something to say, she turned to see Harry and Professor McGonagall on their way down, and realised she didn't have much time.

"Uh- good luck!" she said hooking her arms around his neck and rising onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. She felt his soft skin heat up under the brush of her lips, and couldn't help grinning. "Try not to get eaten, I'm sure I like you a lot more than your book collection,"

"I'm sure it's a close call, but since you asked me nicely, I'll do my best," he replied, turning to enter the tent. At that precise moment, he felt he was ready to face the dragon.

~*~

Up in the stands, Grace sat between the twins. She was fidgeting nervously, her knee bouncing up and down, both to expel her nervous energy and to try and warm her up. It was late November, and while she had remembered to bring a jacket (which Fred was glad about- he wasn't prepared to give her his when it was as cold as this!) she still shivered slightly.

"It'll be fine," George assured her, and Fred decided to give out some of their new products to younger students to try and make her smile while they waited. She thought it was silly, and maybe a bit mean, to give a second year a Ton-Tongue Toffee, but it did succeed in making her laugh when the boy's tongue expanded, turning a grotesque purple as he slobbered everywhere like a dog.

"That's minging," she laughed, covering her mouth.

Around then, the students in the stands began to quiet down slightly, as the shrill sound of a whistle sounded. Ludo Bagman's voice boomed throughout the grounds as he raised his wand to his throat, and the twins shared an irate look. They couldn't stand him after his little stunt with the leprechaun gold at the Quidditch World Cup. Grace listened, practically on the edge of her seat, as Cedric's name was announced as the first champion. He would have to get past the dragon he had been assigned- a Swedish short-snout- and retrieve a large, golden egg.

Grace felt the fear rise in her stomach again as she wondered how he would manage this. She wouldn't have the first clue of what to do, if she had been selected as the champion. Maybe she could put the dragon to sleep? That way it wouldn't be bothered about her. Or perhaps she could just summon the egg to _her_ \- wait, would that even work? It didn't matter, she told herself What actually mattered was how _Cedric_ would do it... and Harry, too, of course.

Cedric, looking slightly green, stepped hesitantly out into the arena. He looked up into the crowd, scanning it, looking for Grace. But the sea of people was constantly moving, and all the spectators looked a _bit_ like ants in his heightened state. She wished she could stand up and wave frantically, as if making a fool of herself in front of the whole school would make him feel any better, however his attention was drawn away by the enormous, blue-grey scaled beast at the opposite end of the enclosure.

 _Breathe, Diggory_ , he told himself, as he formed a plan in his head. He scoured the arena for anything that might be of use to him. Maybe he could make a loud noise, then hide behind that pile of rocks?

So he tried that, calling out to the huge dragon. It turned to him, throwing its head towards him with great force as it shot flames. The spot where he had been standing only seconds before was horribly scorched, and Cedric had thrown himself behind a pile of rocks. A smell, vaguely reminiscent of Cedric's failed attempts to make toast over his fireplace, invaded his nostrils, and he coughed violently.

_"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow"_

So, that wouldn't work, the dragon was probably much smarter than him. He smirked as he remembered what Grace had said about seducing the dragon- not now, brain, he told himself, trying to push the pretty girl out of his mind and _concentrate_. Maybe the dragon had slow reflexes- if he changed direction at the last minute, it might not follow him.

Bracing himself, he stepped out from behind the pile of rocks.

_"He's taking risks, this one!"_

Darting in the opposite direction of the rocks, Cedric only hoped the dragon would follow him. Its eyes were trained on him, like a cat watching the mouse that it was about to make its dinner, as it moved towards him with slow, thumping steps. Suddenly, he changed direction, looping back around the dragon and towards its nest of eggs. But the dragon was just as fast, spinning towards him and wielding another hellish breath of fire, scorching the wall behind him as he threw himself back behind the rocks. The crowd gasped collectively.

 _"_ Clever _move - pity it didn't work!"_

Cedric breathed heavily, trying to figure out how on earth he could get to that _bloody egg_ without having his eyebrows singed off. He didn't want to fall at the first hurdle, embarrassing not only himself, but his house and his father. _Think, Diggory._

The rocks. He was fairly good at transfiguration, since he had chosen to study it at NEWT level, so perhaps he could turn them into something to create a distraction. Sure, he had seen that it was hard to distract the dragon but... what if he turned them into something that would be much more interesting for the dragon? Something faster, more energetic.

Backing towards the corner of the arena, he cast a spell to transfigure the pile of rocks into a black labrador. He felt a bit guilty when he did- the dog was just adorable, with a smooth, shiny coat, its tongue hanging out wildly. Hopefully the dragon didn't decide it would make a nice meal, he thought.

The dog bounded around the enclosure, panting in the vestige of heat left by the dragon's previous attacks. Cedric thought he saw the eyes of the dragon narrow as it snapped at the dog- luckily, the dog was just too fast for it, its movements wild and ever-changing as opposed to the slow, determined movements of the dragon.

He took his chance, darting towards the gleaming golden egg. He was so close, he could hardly hold back a grin as he imagined the crowd cheering and screaming for him. None of that mattered though, not really- the eternal glory was for his father and his house's sakes. But the look of pride that he imagined he would see on Grace's face was better than any eternal glory.

The dragon caught sight of his movement, however, and shot a fresh round of flames at him. He inwardly cursed himself for not moving more slowly as pain seared up the left side of his body, catching his cheekbone slightly.

The crowd gasped, and Grace's knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of her seat. She would never understand Charlie's obsession with danger- getting too close to the fire in the common room was fear-inducing enough for her, after the time she had set her hair on fire when writhing away from one of Fred's "tickle-attacks" in third year.

Cedric, through the burning pain, reached the golden egg as the dragon turned back towards the dog. As he reached forward, grasping it, the crowd roared, almost drowning out the voice of Ludo Bagman as his name was chanted over and over. He turned to face the crowd, holding the egg victoriously above his head. Grace made to move from her seat, but Fred held her down, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"He'll need to see Madam Pomfrey," he explained, "so you'd best just stay and watch the others. You have to support Harry!"

This was true enough, so Grace settled back into her seat, watching the remaining champions enter the stadium one by one.

~*~

Pushing back the canvas of the tent, Grace found Ron and Harry (finally made up, thank Godric), as well as Cedric and the other champions. She rushed over to Cedric, who had a thick orange paste on half of his face, and flung her arms around him. Though it took him by surprise slightly, he hugged her back tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Did I make you proud then?" he teased, pulling back slightly to look down at her. Her dark brown eyes were sparkling slightly with tears of relief, and his heart thumped in his chest- she could probably hear it since she was in such close proximity, he thought with a twinge of embarrassment. But it didn't matter right now- she was proud of him, she had raced to the tents to meet him.

"Obviously," she grinned, "you were bloody brilliant! And that was a nice bit of transfiguration, no wonder you always beat me for the top spot in it,"

He laughed at this, "Not quite worthy of top marks, though, according to the judges," Harry and Krum had tied first- Grace didn't think this was quite fair, since Krum had caused his dragon to smash half of the eggs, but Cedric seemed quite lighthearted about it.

"Hmm, well. I suppose not, Diggory, you might be horribly scarred for the rest of your life," she teased, looking up at the orange paste smeared on his cheek. "Your fan club will be mourning the loss of your beauty as we speak,"

"Aw, I'm not beautiful anymore?" he said, pretending to be sulking. They both burst into laughter, and Madam Pomfrey had to ask them sternly to quieten down a bit.

"You clearly didn't succeed in seducing the dragon, but don't worry, it won't put me off if you've lost your good looks. Maybe we can get you one of those masks, like Michael Crawford in the Phantom of the Opera," she giggled, forgetting that Cedric was not a muggle-born like herself as he looked at her, confused. "Oh, come _on!_ You must have heard of Phantom?"

He shook his head "no", unable to stop smiling at her passion as she tried to explain to him that it was a very popular show amongst muggles. And so they left the tent, heading towards the party which the Hufflepuffs would be holding for him in the common room. This time, Grace decide she _would_ join him.


	9. Chapter 9

The party was loud, though not quite as loud as those held by the twin in the Gryffindor common room. Last year, at the party the twins had insisted on throwing for her birthday, McGonagall had shut it down when the twins thought that an indoor firework display would be a good idea, until Neville had almost been taken out by a misfired rocket. She wasn't exactly supposed to be in the common room, though the teachers weren't too strict on that, let alone having a party. But that was the danger of letting the twins surprise her- she had no way to hold the reins when they had a ridiculously dangerous idea.

In comparison, this party was almost as enjoyable. The decorations were far superior to the slapdash ones of the twins; if nothing else, the Hufflepuffs had a penchant for decorating. Golden balloons were tied in bunches, and black and yellow streamers hung from the high ceiling of the common room, a charming display of house pride. Of course, none of her Gryffindor friends had been invited (nor would they have attended, as they were currently celebrating Harry's win)- despite this, Grace was surrounded by acquaintances, Cho, and Cedric, which meant she had no cause for complaint.

Except that Cedric was absolutely swarmed with admirers. Angelina and Katie had once described Cedric as "strong and silent" (though Fred and George were of the opinion that the _silence_ was mostly due to him apparently being thick), and Grace realised now that they couldn't be more correct. The girls around him vied for his attention, dancing to whatever the fifth year Hufflepuff in charge of the enchanted CD player had put on. But Cedric simply stood, a bottle of butterbeer in his hand, making polite conversation. He even introduced Grace to the girls, which inevitably turned them green with envy- though they weren't technically together, Cedric's arm around her waist was probably sending the exact message that the girls did not want to hear, so they skulked away to try their luck elsewhere.

Apparently not _every_ girl got this message, though. Grace excused herself from Cedric, who had found himself in a not-so-riveting conversation about quidditch with Roger Davies, and went in search of Cho. When she couldn't find her friend anywhere, she made her way over to the window ledge, where she propped herself up next to the open, which had been cracked open slightly. The night air was cool against her cheek, and she watched over the crowds of people, some dying to impress, and some dying to pretend they didn't care.

Considering that most of the students in here were either purebloods or half-bloods, and as such hadn't had much experience in the muggle world, it wasn't far removed from what Grace had heard about teenage muggle parties. Though she'd never been to one, her friend Holly from primary school (who she had caught up with a few times, during summer holidays and the like) had filled her in on all the details- even the ones that Grace thought she'd rather _not_ hear. But there were certainly parallels, which wasn't necessarily good.

"Every party ends with tears," Holly had told her once, in her wise 'I've seen a lot of things' manner. "Usually there's a fight, something gets broken, and the next day you get a text asking everyone to chip in a few quid because their parents are fuming with the state of the house,"

"Why do you frigging go then?" Grace had snorted, in disbelief that this was Holly's idea of fun.

"I live for the drama, babe," she'd laughed, before launching into a dramatic telling of her last holiday to Bridlington.

Grace spent a few more pensive minutes on the stone ledge, thinking about Holly. Really, she was quite a good friend, despite the fact that they had absolutely nothing in common. It was one of those friendships that began out of convenience, when you ended up sitting next to a stranger in year 2 maths, and continued the rest of your youth just because it's _comfortable_. You don't have to have anything in common anyway, because you're only required to speak to each other at six month intervals once the situation you shared is over- then you move into the stage of 'oh, we'll have to meet up again soon', which of course only means 'see you when we bump into each other in Morrisons and inevitably have the same conversation again'. But Holly was a constant in her life, at least. One of the few decent things about going home.

It was then that Grace caught sight of Cho's sleek, raven hair, tossed over her shoulder as she spoke shyly to a boy who was unknown to Grace in the dark. She grinned, knowing this was a telltale sign of flirting, having spent years picking up on her friend's mannerisms. Cho could have anyone she wanted, Grace knew that, but her taste was refined. Hopping down from the window ledge, she made her way across the common room, hoping to get a better look at who the mysterious, dark shrouded figure was.

She wished she hadn't. As the boy stepped into the dim light of a nearby candle, Grace saw that it was Cedric, and felt a pang of envy. She had no reason for that, she knew- Cho was a great friend, who knew just how much she liked Cedric, and Cedric had already clarified that he was all about her. But Cho was stepping towards him now, her hand on his arm.

Fragments of their conversation carried over the music- Oasis's "Definitely Maybe" was blasting through the enchanted speakers and a group of muggleborn boys who had had a bit too much Wizard's Brew were jumping up and down, bellowing the words to "Supersonic". Thrashing wildly, one of them had accidentally emptied the contents of their plastic cup, and Grace's hair was damp and horribly sticky.

"Well done on the first task, Cedric. I knew you could do it-"

She had stumbled forward now, leaning into him, clearly having had too much to drink. She had gripped onto Cedric's shoulders to steady herself, and had paused from her uncontrollable giggling to reach up and lean in for a kiss.

Grace had to tear her eyes away from _that_ , not wanting to see what happened next- what else could happen, when Cho was centimetres away from his lips?

As she did, she bumped into Marietta, who just winked at her and smirked, obviously glad to see that Grace had seen it all unfold. The sweet smell of butterbeer was now too sweet- sickly sweet. The strong perfumes worn by her fellow students were almost choking. The room was intolerably hot, and it was getting increasingly harder to breathe, mushed in between all the dancing couples and over-excited third-years. It would be mortifying to pass out here, she thought, in front of everyone. Spinning on her heel, Grace headed to the door of the common room. She had seen enough for tonight.

The door swung open, hitting her in the face, as Fred and George stepped through. A metallic taste flooded her senses, and she squeezed her eyes shut to stop herself from calling out in pain.

"The party starts now!" Fred had yelled, holding up a bottle of firewhisky in each hand- he was met with a cheer from the drunk Hufflepuffs who had suddenly forgotten their house rivalry. His bright red hair was damp with sweat, and he looked more than a little tipsy. George appeared at his shoulder, just as excited until he saw Grace holding a hand to her bloodied nose.

"Oh- Merlin!" he said, his face dropping as he stepped towards her, "What happened?"

"The bastard door just hit me, that's what happened!" she snapped, heat rising in her face now. She wasn't particularly mad at George, or Fred, whoever had flung the door into her face. If anything, she was more angry at Cho for making a pass, Cedric for making a fool of her, and Marietta for being such a _smug bitch_ about it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't- well, I didn't think," he said, taken aback slightly by her uncharacteristic anger. "Come on, let's get you sorted out,"

They made their way to the kitchens, which were fortunately quite close to the Hufflepuff common room, and Grace sat down at one of the wooden benches as George asked one of the house elves for some ice and some kitchen roll.

"I really am sorry, Gracie," he said, watching her guiltily as the blood finally stopped streaming from her nose. It didn't look broken, but Grace had never really liked the curvature of her nose, so she didn't think it could get much worse if it _was_.

"It's fine," she sighed, finally having calmed down, "It wasn't even that that I was angry about,"

He lifted his brows, questioningly.

George was at her side; of course, he always was. He always had been, the past 6 years, the only difference was that this time Fred was not at her other side. She assumed he was still at the party, playing some ridiculous drinking game; or perhaps he'd spotted Cho and Cedric and was now breaking Cedric's perfectly straight nose, that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Why did he have to be so beautiful?!

Tears began to sting Grace's eyes, which were fixated on the table, as she explained what she had seen. Cho, moving closer to Cedric. Cho, reaching up to kiss him. She felt sick to her stomach, and deeply confused, by what she had seen. _Why?_ Every thought in her mind seemed to begin with why, and she dropped her head into her arms which were folded on the table, too embarrassed to let George see the tears spill over.

"Don't cry, Gracie," George said, finally breaking the silence. He had no tact, clearly- were there any words that made you burst into tears faster than 'don't cry, 'are you crying' or 'are you okay'? Grace didn't think so, and she held back her sobs as tears streamed down her face.

"Hey, it's okay," he hushed her, reaching his hand out to comfort her, rubbing her arm gently.

"I- just- don't-"

It was no good. Though she didn't cry an awful lot, when she did, she cried _hard_. Full on, verge-of-hyperventilating, ugly crying. Which only made her cry more, because it was utterly humiliating. George said nothing, letting her come around.

"Why would Cho _do_ that? And why would he- why would he let her?" Grace cried, perplexed. Cho had been her friend for an awfully long time, and Grace had done everything she could for the girl, lending her mountains of notes and books and even giving up her time to tutor the younger girls when she struggled in subjects like History of Magic. Grace had considered Cho a close friend, while not as close as the twins, and she couldn't believe the betrayal she had just witnessed. And Cedric- what the hell was that all about? Why tell her he was all about her, only to let this happen? She had looked away at the last moment, she supposed, so he might have stopped her. But why would he?

"I don't know. Because he's a pillock," George offered, seeming to take great pleasure in slandering Cedric. "What did you expect?"

"Huh?"

"Well, he's the Hogwarts champion, he's the quidditch captain, he's a prefect, and just about every girl in the school is in love with him," he listed off, as though it made perfect sense- as though he'd thought about this list of reasons before, in another context.

"Yeah, but he kissed _me_ ," she argued, starting to feel more irate than upset.

" _And_ ," George said, as though it was obvious, "he has about a hundred other girls who'd like to kiss him,"

"So?"

Even George was frustrated now; Grace was a smart girl, what wasn't she getting?!

" _So,_ he's not going to waste all his time on one girl, especially when he's been chasing you for the past few months,"

Grace looked up at George, bewildered, as she lifted her head from the table. "What, aren't I worth it? Aren't I worth sticking around for?"

"I didn't mean that, Gracie, you know I didn't!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "It's just- you can't expect someone like him to-"

"Can't expect someone like him to be interested in someone like me, can I? Can't expect to keep his interest when he's got better offers?"

"You know that's not what I'm saying, any guy would be lucky to have you, but he-"

"Oh please, he's the first one to pay me any mind and even _he's_ sodded off!" she snapped.

"He's not the first guy to pay you any attention, Grace,"

She stood up now, tired of this pointless conversation. Her nose still had dried blood around it, but in that moment she couldn't care less- she was going back to her common room, and she was going to avoid human contact for as long as humanly possible.

The door slammed behind her, and George gave it up as a bad job, electing instead to head back to the party and tell Fred what had just transpired.

"Oh, they didn't kiss, though," Fred said nonchalantly as he cracked open another bottle.

"Yeah, she- what?"

"They didn't kiss. Unless he's a really terrible kisser, or something," he added, as though this was a well-known fact.

"How do you know?!"

"Well, she's sitting in the corner looking like a water fountain," he explained, gesturing wildly to where Cho sat in the corner, crying to Marietta, who was now looking much less smug, "and he's- coming over as we speak,"

"Hi," Cedric said, looking quite perturbed. His usually-tidy hair was now falling out of place, owing to his nervous habit of repeatedly running his hands through it, until it was sticking out at all angles. "Um, sorry to bother you," he said, when neither of the twins greeted him, "but have you seen Gracie?"

George stared at him blankly for a second, before heaving a sigh.

"Oh, piss off," he jibed, before swiping the bottle from Fred and leaving his twin and Cedric gobsmacked.


	10. Chapter 10

Grace had (mostly) successfully avoided both Cho and Cedric for two weeks now, mortified by what had happened, as well as by her own behaviour. Fred had explained to her the morning after the party that Cedric hadn't allowed Cho to kiss him, and the red rims around Cho's eyes confirmed his statement as fact.

"Oh, Merlin, I look like such an idiot now," she cried, burying her head in her hands.

"Not as much of an idiot as her," George said, jerking his head over at Marietta, who was glaring obstinately at them. Grace, still upset by what George had implied the night before, had simply ignored him.

And she was still ignoring him by that next week, sitting alone in the library. It was tough, avoiding people from ¾ of the Hogwarts houses, but it had to be done. In fact, Grace thought she had probably done more work in that week than she ever had since starting Hogwarts. She couldn't go to her own common room, or the Gryffindor common room, or the bench under the tree- she even avoided meals, where she could, because she had no friends to sit with at the Slytherin table. So it had to be the library, where the only conversations she had were with Madam Pince. Maybe she could wear her down, Grace contemplated, as her eyes scanned the shelves. She did scowl at every student, without exception, but since Grace was planning to spend the next two years living in the library now that she was avoiding her friends, perhaps she could convince Madam Pince to like her. Or at least to tolerate her graciously.

Besides the piercing eyes of Madam Pince, Grace didn't mind spending all her time in the library. It was usually quiet, and she had always been comforted by the abundance of books in there. In a way, they reminded her of her summer job at the bookshop- just another place she couldn't return to, thanks to her lovely mother.

Anyway, her avoidance had only been mostly successful because of what had happened after her first week of solitude. Grace had woken in the middle of the night, her stomach aching for food after she had foolishly skipped dinner. She groaned, making her way down the steps into the common room, cautious not to awaken any of her roommates. When she arrived in the common room at half past four in the morning, however, she was shocked to find it was not empty. Cho was sitting by the fire, prodding the dying embers with a poker.

It's fine, Grace thought to herself. I can just head back to bed, I can wait for breakfast. But the creak of the staircase said otherwise, and she cursed the age of the castle for the first time in her life as Cho's head whipped around, her eyes widening when she saw who was there.

"I was just- uh- heading back to bed," Grace mumbled, turning back up the stairs.

"No, Grace, wait! Please," cried Cho, jumping up from her spot by the fire.

She waited. The tension hung in the air, invisible but dense.

"He didn't kiss me,"

"I know," Grace sighed, rubbing her eyes. She'd already known this, but that wasn't really the problem, was it? Cho had intended for him to kiss her, when she'd leaned into him, twirling her perfect hair around her finger.

"I didn't mean to, I- I don't know what came over me," Cho told her, her voice cracking slightly. Grace felt an almost uncontrollable urge to comfort the girl who had broken her trust, but she held her ground, gripping the railing of the staircase.

"Well, I guess I did, I do..." she admitted, taking a deep breath to steady her voice, "Marietta had said that he didn't seem to like you that much and she'd... well, you know what she's like, when she starts filling your head with all her spiteful rubbish,"

"No, I don't know what that's like, Cho," Grace retorted, harshly, "because when she tries filling my head with rubbish, it comes out the other ear, like it should for you!"

Cho, nodded, accepting that this was true. "I know, I know you're right. But she kept banging on about it, how he'd be better suited to me, and how I should make a move and- I was absolutely bladdered, and I just wasn't thinking and-"

"You're right," Grace had told the younger girl, "you weren't thinking. Of anyone but yourself, at least. You're only sorry because it didn't work out the way you wanted it to,"

And she had turned and gone back to bed, not speaking to Cho since.

She stretched up to the seventh shelf up, a book on The Decline of Pagan Magic catching her eye. She had to stand on her tiptoes, gripping the shelf, and yet she still couldn't reach. Maybe she'd get a nice, quick end if it fell and bonked her on the head, she thought. It was a grim sort of joke, not quite as funny when she couldn't share it with the twins. Her fingers scarcely brushed the ancient leather of the spine when a hand reached out, pulling the book effortlessly from the shelf and holding it out to her.

"Oh, thank-"

Her eyes met those of the boy who had helped her. Of course he had.

"It's alright," he said, smiling at her. The smile didn't reach his stormy, grey eyes though, and he looked about as miserable as Grace felt.

"Ced..." she whispered, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat.

"Do you mind if we talk?" he asked. Madam Pince cleared her throat loudly, and he added in a lower voice, "Outside?"

Grace nodded silently, turning to shove her notes into her bag, which Cedric slung over his shoulder. God, could he stop being so nice to her?! She'd acted like a complete idiot the night of the party, not letting him explain himself, and she'd avoided him ever since. It seemed he was a glutton for punishment.

"I know," she sighed sitting on their bench, "that you didn't kiss her,"

Cedric's mouth hung open slightly at this, as though he had been expecting her to ask something else.

"You what?"

"Cho," Grace told him, as though it was the plainest thing.

"Er, yeah- of course I didn't. I'm smitten for you- I still am smitten," he told her in earnest.

"But I just felt so... embarrassed. I mean, I did think you'd kissed, at the party, which is why I left early. Well, that and the fact that George slammed the door into my face and gave me this awful nosebleed and we had to go to the kitchen and-"

Cedric was still just staring at her, deeply perplexed by this turn of events. He let her nervous rambling continue, watching her in wonder.

"-and then George started telling me how I shouldn't be surprised which upset me even more, so I went back to my dorm," she took a huge breath, realising she forgot to breath in the nerve-inducing situation, "And then the next day Fred told me that you didn't even kiss, just that Cho tried to kiss you. But by then I was so embarrassed that I hid in the library for a week with Madam Pince who, by the way, is unreasonably gr-"

He couldn't take any more of that, and leaned in to kiss her, cupping her cheeks gently. She was confused for a split-second, but decided not to question her good luck, instead tangling her hands in his unruly hair.

When they broke away, their faces remained inches apart, his hands still cupping her face.

"Why- I've been such an idiot and that's how you reward me?" she said, baffled. "I think I need to ramble more often,"

"I thought you'd just decided you weren't interested anymore!" he exclaimed, looking equally as shocked. "And I just assumed, yknow, that you felt too bad to say anything, so you were avoiding me,"

"Cedric Diggory," she murmured, beginning to grin now, "I will never not be interested in you,"

He beamed at this, breathing a sigh of relief. He thought he'd be leaving this bench with a broken heart, but if he worked up the nerve to ask...

"I'm glad to hear that," His eyes flitted away and back to hers as he pondered how best to ask her his burning question, "because... well, because, ever since that night at the Quidditch World Cup you have enraptured me, truly. I haven't gone five minutes without you crossing my mind ever since, and I've never felt so understood by another person, even if we are from different worlds. And essentially, uh, what I'm trying so hard to say is that... oh, Merlin, I don't know if it's too early to say this but I'm sort of in love with you," he told her, his voice getting slightly higher as he finished his sentence, and he seemed to steel himself for the possible rejection.

Grace closed the inches between their lips briefly, touching her lips to his.

"I think I'm sort of in love with you, too,"

~*~

"Wotcher," Grace greeted them, making her way through the portrait hole behind a group of nervous looking first years. They'd insisted that they weren't allowed to let someone from another house in, but she had persisted, and they'd finally let her, hurrying away to their dorm.

"Alright, Wynfield?" Fred said, looking up from the seat by the fireplace.

The twins were lounging about in the Gryffindor common room, which was buzzing with talk of the dance. Harry and Ron were moping about their rejections, from Cho and Fleur respectively, and Grace couldn't help giggling at Ron's confusion about why he had asked out Fleur against his better judgement.

"She's part veela," Harry explained, "Maybe she was using her veela magic on Cedric and it just happened to- get you?"

Ron nodded, still looking sullen.

"Not that that would work anyway," Fred added, "He'll be taking you, won't he, Gracie?"

Heat spread across Grace's face, and she felt it go bright red. She hadn't had much time to tell them about the recent development in her love life, and didn't quite like the feeling of announcing it there and then. They all looked at her expectantly, Ginny even wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Well, no, actually-"

"WHAT?!" Ginny shrieked, looking horrified as she sat up. Okay, they weren't technically going out (as far as Ginny knew, at least), but they may as well be. The two spent a lot of time together, and Cedric seemed absolutely smitten. The idea of them not going was, to Ginny, unfathomable.

"Christ, my ear drums," Grace said, wincing. They were all watching her still, so she added, "Well, it's not like that-"

"Oh, come on," Fred said, smirking, "It's definitely like that,"

"I didn't mean it in that way, it's just..." Grace didn't really know what to say- they'd talked about their feelings... Were they going out now, officially? Were they automatically going together? Or did he still have to ask her? "Well, he hasn't actually asked me to go with him, yet,"

George glanced up from the game of exploding snaps he was playing with Ron. "Really?" he said, trying to disguise the hopeful tone in his voice. He knew she fancied Diggory, but that didn't change how he felt. If Cedric didn't want to go with Grace, he would surely volunteer.

They still hadn't spoken much since the incident after the first task; Grace and the twins never kept up their arguments, because they bickered frequently over an assortment of trivial topics, even down to the best toast topping (obviously chocolate spread, Fred had said). In fact, Fred had always teased that she and George argued like an old married couple. The way they were acting now, though, Grace thought it reminded her of an old divorced couple, staying civil for Fred's sake. They hadn't had a moment alone since the argument, and so it had passed, unspoken between the two.

"Yeah," she said, quietly. "We're going to Hogsmeade together, though, at the weekend," She hadn't mentioned it to Fred and George, who she usually attended with, but hoped that they wouldn't be too put out. After all, at the last visit she had been stuck on the end of the table in The Three Broomsticks whilst Ron whined to her about Harry.

"Hogsmeade weekend has already passed, though," Harry said, though he hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation. He was more worried about finding himself a date, after Cho had rejected him in favour of one of the boys from Beauxbatons. He thought they had seemed friendly, sitting together at the Ravenclaw table, but he didn't realise that they were going to the ball together. Now he was wishing he had asked Grace if she knew if Cho had a date before, to save himself from the embarrassment of all her friends giggling at him.

"Oh, McGonagall has put another one on, with the ball and everything,"

"And thank Merlin for that," Grace said, standing up from the settee. "Because I still haven't got a dress,"

"You haven't?" asked Ginny, sounding scandalised. She thought herself to be the authority on all fashion and beauty advice, and had already told Grace that she would be doing her hair and makeup for the ball, no two ways about it.

"Nope, I'll have to see what I can get this weekend,"

"You make my job so hard," Ginny sighed, only half-joking.

Grace just laughed, messing up Ginny's hair a little as she stood up. "Right, I suppose I'd best be off, it's almost curfew," she said, heading towards the door.

"Wait!" George said, just as a small explosion came from his and Ron's game of snap. "I'll come with you," he said, standing up and walking over to her.

"It's fine, you'll end up getting caught on your way back," she told him, swinging the portrait open. The Fat Lady had become accustomed to her sneaking into the common room now, and didn't mind so much as she had in their first year. It had always been a bit of a struggle to smuggle Grace in, especially the first few months.

"Yeah, you're right, whatever would I do if I got in trouble?" George said sarcastically, following her out of the portrait hole anyway.

She laughed, leading the way to Ravenclaw tower. "I'm supposed to keep you out of trouble, not get you into it. Molly'll kill me,"

"Shurrup," he said, knocking his shoulder into hers, "She loves you. The whole family does," Not as much as I do, he thought. He wished he could just tell her- no, he wished he had told her before, in summer, before she even had a chance to get to know Cedric. He'd waited too long and missed his chance; he literally had 5 years to make a move, and just as he'd plucked up the courage, a better offer had come along. That was just his luck!

But maybe, if Cedric hadn't asked her to the Yule Ball, he had no intention to. Surely he would have asked her immediately, if he planned to ask her at all? George thought he should just pluck up the courage and ask her himself, for the worst she could say was no. It didn't even have to be in a romantic way, it would just be a chance to spend some time alone with her, without Fred or Cedric or Ginny or anyone else around.

"Uh- I was thinking," he started, looking down at her as she strolled beside him. He was walking particularly slowly to get a bit longer with her, for they were rarely alone, and she had matched it out of kindness.

"Well, there's a first time for everything, as they say," she smirked, her eyes shining as she looked over her shoulder at him, speeding up a little so he couldn't bat her for teasing him.

He laughed, nervously. "Stop walking so fast," he said, pulling her wrist back, so she turned to face him. His heart thudded in his chest as he wondered how to word this. George was not particularly shy; he used to be, when he was younger, and he still felt that he lived in Fred's shadow to an extent. But he had never felt like this, his palms clammy and his heart racing when her deep brown eyes met his, expectantly.

"What?" she whispered, when he continued to stand still and silent.

"I was wondering if you might like to-"

A booming crash sounded, just down the corridor from them. Chairs were thrown out of a classroom one by one, making a sort of barricade down the middle of the corridor.

"Peeves," she groaned, hurrying down the corridor.

"Naughty students!" bellowed Peeves, appearing from the classroom. "Breaking curfew are we, Weasley? And not for the first time. It would be such a shame if a prefect found you- or better, Filch!"

George rolled his eyes, trying to pass the disruption- but Grace heard footsteps and grabbed his arm, roughly pulling him back and down another corridor. They stood there silently, pressed against the stone wall as they listened to what was going on. George had tried to speak, but Grace had fervently shook her head and pressed a finger to his lips to silence him.

"Prefect!" Peeves had yelled jovially as the footsteps came to a halt. Grace's heart slowed slightly, glad that it wasn't Filch and Mrs Norris. They gave her the creeps. "There are two very naughty students running around the corridors. I was just trying to stop them for you!"

"Peeves," Cedric groaned, in a tone very similar to the one Grace had used only moments before. He turned the corner onto the corridor where George and Grace were standing, staring at him.

"Hiya," mumbled Grace, awkwardly. "I was just heading back to my dorm," she explained, when he didn't say anything.

"Oh- of course!" he said, a bit too enthusiastically. George wished he wasn't there now. He'd missed his chance to ask her, and as double punishment he had to stand and listen to them converse like that. "It's alright actually, I wanted a word with you,"

Looking up from the floor, George began to walk away, muttering a goodnight to Grace. Cedric, not even realising he was still within earshot, practically burst with excitement to ask Grace exactly what he had wanted to ask her.

"Well, now that we've- uh," he stammered, offering her a nervous smile. He still wasn't exactly used to the idea that they had admitted their feelings, and they had agreed not to shout it about just yet, "And I was just wondering- well, hoping, actually- uh-"

Grace watched him, expectantly, her heart thudding in her chest.

"Would you be my girlfriend?" he finished, making eye contact with her at long last.

"Thought you'd never ask, Ced," she grinned, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him. With that, George decided he had heard enough; he had officially missed his chance, and headed back to the Gryffindor common rooms, straight to bed.

The two walked hand in hand, slower than Grace had been walking before; they didn't have to hurry now, because Cedric had the excuse of being a prefect.

"I meant to tell you before, how much I liked the drawing you left in my robes for me," Grace told him, casting her mind back to the sketch of her under their tree. "It was lovely, you're very talented,"

He smiled sheepishly at this; slipping that drawing in her pocket had been a moment of courage for him. Cedric was very shy about his dreams and ambitions, and rarely shared his art with anyone. Of course, as with many other rules, Grace was an exception to this.

"I don't think there's anything that you're not good at, though," she continued, thoughtfully. "If I could draw, I'd slip one back in your pocket. I'm quite good at writing history essays, but it's not quite as romantic, is it?"

Cedric couldn't help but laugh at this, swinging her hand slightly in glee. "I suppose you're right," he said, as they turned the corner. He racked his mind for anything- he didn't need anything in return for the little sketches, he merely did them because he wanted to, because she inspired him and supported his dream. But he knew she would like to feel she was giving him something in return, and he wouldn't complain.

"What about music?" he offered, out of the blue. "I'm no good at holding a tune, and I've never heard muggle music before. And I know you like it, you're always raving on about it to the twins,"

"You want me to serenade you?" she snickered.

"That's not what I meant, not that I'd complain," he answered, smirking, "I just meant you could tell me your favourite songs, or your favourite lyrics..."

"Or ones that remind me of you!" she added, catching onto his idea. They beamed at each other, and she decided that she liked that idea.

And so before she laid down to sleep that night, she pulled out her quill and wrote her first note for him.

Earth angel, Earth angel  
Will you be mine?

She thought that that encompassed Cedric rather well- an Earth angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for over 100 hits, it means a lot that anyone wants to read my work lol <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a slightly shorter chapter, but I hoped you enjoyed it nonetheless : ) the next chapter will be focusing on Christmas morning, and then it's the Yule Ball! Exciting stuff

"This one's beautiful," Cedric said, pulling a long dress, made of a pale grey tulle, from the rack.

Looking up from the sale rack at the other end of the shop, Grace nodded. It _was_ undeniably beautiful, and probably twice as expensive as the one she had just been looking at. It was low cut, much more revealing than anything that Grace had ever worn before, and with translucent straps that would lie off her shoulders. The bodice was embroidered intricately with glimmering silver stars, which decreased in number down the A-line gown, with only a few dotted around the full skirt. It reminded Grace of fluttering snowfall, and was undoubtedly the most magnificent piece of clothing she had ever seen. Ginny would absolutely die to see it on Grace.

"It's very nice. It'd match your eyes," she pointed out, smirking, hoping to conceal her amazement at the dress. There was no way on Earth that she could justify such an expensive purchase, nor did she have the money to make it in the first place.

Cedric flushed, but agreed. He hadn't thought of that when he picked it up, though he thought it was very sweet of her to have even noticed. "You should try it on- you'd look lovely in anything, of course, but this should definitely make the short-list,"

She felt ashamed, talking about money. She didn't want him to pity her or think she was asking for anything- she had worked for everything that she had. "It's just a bit expensive, Ced. Way over the budget," she noted, seeing the price tag on it. _Way_ over the budget- what the hell was that dress made of?!

"I'll buy it," he said, seriously.

"Nope, no way," she refused.

"Yes way, if you like this one. You're my date, no?"

"I am but... I can't let you pay _that much_ , especially for a dress I'll only have reason to wear once!"

"Considering my inheritance... well, it's a price I'm willing to pay, to see you happy," he said, smiling crookedly. "And don't worry, I'm sure I'll find many more occasions to take you to,"

"I'd be happy going in a bin bag, as long as you were taking me to the ball," she laughed, rolling her eyes, before adding, "Well, maybe not a _bin bag_ , unless you were wearing one too, because I wouldn't like you to outshine me too much-"

He pressed his lips to hers softly, interrupting her nervous rambling. As adorable as it was, he wasn't taking no for an answer when it came to paying for her dress. Her eyes were wide as the pair both flushed, Cedric looking at her intently. She covertly slipped the first note she had written into his pocket.

"See, you're bringing out bad habits in me, rewarding me like that for rambling,"

The old witch behind the counter cleared her throat loudly, probably suggesting they buy something or get out. Grace's pale face reddened deeper and she took a step back, taking the beautiful dress carefully from Cedric's arm. "I'll, uh- I'll go try this on," she said, looking down and smiling before she entered the changing room and drew the curtains.

Patiently, Cedric waited by the counter, making pleasant small talk with the shopkeeper. She seemed somewhat exasperated with his good-natured chat by the time Grace emerged, still wearing her docs, jeans, and her thick winter coat over the top of her jumper. She smiled at Cedric, who was now leaning against the counter and watching the snow fall lazily upon the quaint village of Hogsmeade out of the window.

"Oh, didn't you like it?" he asked, turning to her.

"I did- it's gorgeous, really. I just thought I'd make you wait until the ball to see it," she grinned, as he pouted slightly.

"So, we'll take it?"

She nodded, acquiescing. "If you insist on buying it, I can hardly say no,"

And so she allowed him to pay for it, promising she'd cover the drinks in The Three Broomsticks, though she knew she could never actually repay him for the cost of the dress, even if she bought him a hundred butterbeers.

"Actually, I'll catch up with you in a few minutes," he said, as they reached the door of the pub. "I've just got to run a quick errand," he explained, as she looked confused.

"Of course, uh- I could come with you?"

He shook his head, perhaps too quickly. "No, no, I won't be a minute, honestly. You get us a table before they all fill up, and I'll meet you back inside in a couple of minutes," he insisted, giving her a grin over his shoulder as she pushed the door to the pub open.

The warm ambience of the pub engulfed her as she entered, warming up her rosy cheeks and nose. A sweet smell- butterbeer, she assumed- floated through the air, and the place was bustling with students and a couple of teachers. She headed to the bar, buying two pints of butterbeer before turning to look for a table.

"Hello!" said two cheery voices on each side of her, making her jump out of her skin. The drinks in her hands sloshed, but thankfully none of the golden liquid in the glasses spilt- butterbeer, whilst absolutely delicious, was also annoyingly sticky, as she had learnt from all the times the twins had knocked a glass or bottle over during the past few years.

"Oh!" she yelped, glaring up at the twins for she didn't have a free hand to shove them with. They burst into laughter, and Fred took the glasses from her to stop her from spilling them as they walked over to a free table.

"Date went so badly that you had to buy yourself two drinks?" teased Fred, setting them down on the table. Grace immediately reached for one of the glasses, parched from walking around all morning.

"Har-har," she mocked. "No, he's just off running an errand, he'll be here soon,"

"Oh, we'd best be off then," muttered George.

"You can wait 'til he gets here, if you want,"

"Very kind of you," joked Fred, clearly irked by his brother's low spirits. He got it, George was massively in love with Grace- but she clearly had her heart set on someone else, and it was high time that George got it into his pretty little head, if you asked Fred. It wasn't worth ruining their best friendship over.

And so they chatted for a few minutes (or at least Fred and Grace did, because George was still sulking a little- sure, he was used to being second best to Fred, but _Cedric Diggory?_ ) about their days. The twins had been to Zonko's and Honeydukes, stocking up, whilst Cedric and Grace had visited the bookshop, stationers, and the dress shop. All in all, they had each had very different, though very enjoyable, days. Fred was thankful that they hadn't had to look at books and quills (though Grace always squeezed that in quickly before they went back to Hogwarts, usually letting the twins have free rein of the itinerary), but felt that his spirit had been somewhat dampened by George's grumpy mood caused by Grace's absence. Maybe he would've preferred to go to spend a few minutes looking at books and quills, if it meant that Grace would have tagged along with them. Fred, however, drew the line at looking at _dresses._

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Grace asked, frowning at George as he snapped at Fred for an insignificant joke. She had noticed that, for the past few days, he had been in a foul mood. She had written to Molly, who had merely glazed over the issue in her responses, instead asking her about her plans for the Yule Ball. It was very much unlike the two of them to be so distant; she had finally forgiven him for the night at the party, and now he was angry at her? It didn't make sense. Though she hadn't paid it much mind until now, it dampened her spirits, too.

"Nothing," he mumbled, tracing the patterns in the wood of the table as he rested his chin glumly on the palm of his other hand.

"Hmph,"

"Well, actually, maybe if you-"

Luckily, George was interrupted before he could say anything he would regret, though Fred was ready to clamp his hand over his brother's mouth in an instant. Cedric had made his way over slowly, doing his best to squeeze through the crowd as he held a heavy-looking box in his hand. There were no signs of what was inside, and he placed it on the seat next to him as he squeezed into the booth next to Grace.

"Hiya, sorry I took so long, there was a bit of a queue,"

"Oh, don't apologise," George muttered, but only Grace could make it out, and she miraculously resisted the urge to kick his shin under the table. This stupid grudge over a bloody quidditch match was really starting to piss her off- Christmas was her favourite time of year, and here was George being a moody twat.

"What's in the box?" asked Fred as he nodded towards the package that Cedric had placed on the seat next to him, trying his best to make polite conversation, although it was known that he didn't particularly like Cedric. This change of attitude was a bit of a shock to Grace, but she was just grateful that he wasn't making the situation any worse.

Cedric's cheeks were still bright pink from the biting air outside, and he had readily gulped down half his glass of butterbeer. "Oh, that- just something I had to pick up for someone, that's all," As hard as he tried, Cedric was not very good at keeping surprises. He couldn't help it, it was just in his nature! Whilst he could be trusted with a secret or a problem when someone confided in him, he was unable to contain his excitement when it came to a surprise for one of his friends. Thus, he thought it best not to dwell on the subject, instead asking the twins how they were finding classes.

George, still sulking, merely grunted by means of communication, whilst Fred had to awkwardly fill in for his twin, telling Cedric that " _we_ " are enjoying " _our_ " classes. It reminded Grace a little of first year, when George still preferred to hide in Fred's shadow. Of course, he had blossomed socially since then, and few remembered it. But when Grace thought back, smilingly, she still saw that shy boy. Now, though, he was just being a bit of a prick, and she told him so on her way to the common room, as Cedric had excused himself to take his package back to his dorm before going to cover his prefect duties.

"Oh, whatever," he had said, storming off through the snow ahead of her and Fred.

"Merlin, what _is_ wrong with him?" she exclaimed to Fred, throwing her hands up and nearly hitting Fred in the face with the bag containing her dress. "Oop- sorry," she said, and they both laughed.

"Honestly, you can't tell?"

She shook her head.

"I think he feels a bit..." Fred bit his lower lip, thinking of how he could phrase this without inducing George to commit fratricide. "Well, a bit pushed out, y'know?"

Grace looked wide eyed, slightly appalled that she did have some fault in George's mood swings. She had been hoping that it was just hormones, puberty having a second round with him.

"For the past six years he's been used to it being just us three, sometimes with Cho or Lee, but us three at the core of it all. He's not exactly a fan of Cedric, and he just feels as though... well, as though you've forgotten us,"

She gulped back the lump in her throat, willing the tears not to form in her eyes. It was silly, crying over this- she could just apologise, and George would surely forgive her. But she really did feel awful. "You- you don't feel like that do you?" she spluttered, looking down at her Docs. "I mean- you both know I love you! I've just never had someone _like_ me before, not like Cedric does," she explained, guiltily.

Thankful that she hadn't caught on about George liking her from the hints he'd just made, Fred sighed heavily. "Of course we know that, and we love you, too. Wait- I liked you! Are you denying our passionate fling of '91?" he teased, using their short stint at romance as a cover-up for George's long-burning feelings.

She rolled her eyes, momentarily forgetting her guilt. "As romantic as those two weeks were," she laughed, "I think Cedric likes me a whole great deal more than _you_ did,"

Fred sobered a bit at this, jumping to his and George's defence. "He might _like_ you more, but he'll never love you as much as we do, Gracie. Just like no one will ever love us as much as you do,"

This was uncharacteristically soppy for Fred and Grace- whilst George was a bit more sentimental, and usually the one with whom Grace would discuss her problems and emotions with, almost everything was a joke to Fred. She shoved him with her shoulder, playfully. "I don't love you! You're..." she mocked gagging, "Merlin, I don't even think I can say it. Ginger!" she said, pretending to throw up against the wall.

Fred roared with laughter, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder. "Reckon I'll chuck you out the nearest window for that one, Wynfield. And ginger is sexy, Angelina said so," he added, matter-of-factly.

"She lied!" exclaimed Grace breathlessly through bursts of laughter.


	12. Chapter 12

For as long as Grace could remember, Christmas had been her _favourite_ time of year. She had always loved trips to the Lake District with her grandparents in Spring, using a film camera to take pictures of every flower and butterfly she could find. She had loved playing out on her bike with her friends in Summer, even when her mum had a go at her for scraping her knees when she fell off. And she had always loved dressing up for Halloween and getting as many sweets as she could in Autumn, even if her mum had told her she couldn't eat them if she wanted to keep her figure (but who on _Earth_ says that to a ten year old, Cho had said, when Grace had mentioned it to her in passing).

Despite all this, Grace had always loved Christmas. Not so fussed for _receiving_ presents, she simply loved to _give_ them. Her family had never had much money, despite the way her mum liked to act in front of their posh friends, so Grace had had to scrimp and save year-round in order to get presents for people- either that, or she would use her somewhat artistic efforts to craft something. During her first Christmas at the Burrow, Molly was equal parts shocked and heart-warmed to find that Grace had crocheted her a nice shawl. She had practically adopted her into the family there and then, telling the twins later that she liked Grace even more than _they_ did.

This Christmas was no exception to that- in fact, perhaps it only consolidated her love for Christmas. The past few years, since coming to Hogwarts, had somewhat diminished her love for Christmas. Whilst it made her happier than ever to have such amazing friends, she had spent most of her Christmases at home, where her parents now liked her much less, and where her Christmases were much less pleasant than the ones she had in her youths. She thought back to the time when she was six, and her dad had taken her on a steam train, where she had met "Father Christmas" at the end. Compared to her last Christmas, that was heaven.

Last Christmas, she'd had to go home to her parents. She had left her friends reluctantly (and rather tearfully), making them swear that they would write to her, else her parents might finally drive her mad.

_Dearest Gracie,_

_We're missing you loads here. Sneaking to the kitchens isn't as fun without you. Ignore that ink spot, Fred tried snatching the quill. He wants to tell you that it's more fun, because you always take the Bakewell tarts. Anyway, I disagree- when you're here, the house elves are a lot nicer to us. They're being a bit stingy with us._

_Still, I bet we're having more fun than you. Someone's anonymously sent Harry a Firebolt, so he's chuffed. Mum's just sent us some knitting and baking. We'd save some for you but it'd probably go off by time you're back. Mum did send you some packages, but we thought we'd be best not sending them, since your parents aren't fans of owls- wouldn't want them to ban our only means of communication. We've got you something as well, so we'll keep them all safe for you until you get back._

_How's your Christmas going? Hope it's better than you thought it'd be._

_Love,_

_George_ ~~_and Fred_ ~~

-

_Dear Georg_ _e ~~,~~ _ _and Fred_ _,_

_Glad to hear your Christmas is going well, and that you're missing me. Haha. You're getting soft in your old age! My Christmas is going shittingly, to be quite frank._

_We went round to mum's mates' house yesterday- it was a proper dinner party, with a load of toffs. My mum made me wear this horrid dress that looked like it was made out of a pair of my nan's old curtains. I had to sit next to a boy twice as uptight as Percy (shocking, I know), and my mum kept scolding me for dropping my 't's when I spoke and not sitting up straight. I'm literally going mad. Shame you don't still have your dad's flying car breaking Harry out of his house last year, it'd come in handy right now._

_Gonna have to go now, my mum's making me phone up all my relatives and thank them for their cards and presents. Can never have too many (opened and used) bottles of Dove body wash, can you? Miss you both terribly, hopefully will see you soon._

_Your Gracie x_

_P.S. Please don't take the flying car bit seriously, if you show up at my house my parents WILL kill you. And me._

-

This Christmas would already be miles better than the last, she vowed. She was at Hogwarts with her best friends (even if George was ignoring her for the first time in her life, and she was still a bit annoyed with Cho), her boyfriend, and (most importantly) away from her dreadful parents. As such, when Grace awoke on the 25th of December, she did so with a smile. Pulling on her jumper, her jeans, and her Docs in the dim light of the morning, she quietly made her way out of her dorm, and to the Gryffindor common room. Seemingly most of her fellow students were enjoying a good lie-in, and she made it to the common room rather quickly, greeting anyone she did see with a "Merry Christmas!"

Knowing that the twins likely wouldn't be up for a while, Grace settled into a seat by the window, enjoying the peace. She had contemplated having a talk with George, apologising for her apparent neglect of him, but decided that that was no good. Fred had told her that in confidence- if George wanted to discuss it, he would have to bring it up himself. For now, all she could do was rectify her behaviour, and hope that George would accept it by way of an apology.

"Merry Christmas!" she shouted, throwing her arms around the first twin to leave the dorm. It just so happened to be George- the two instantly and silently agreeing to forget their recent quarrels- and he hugged her back tightly.

"Merry Christmas," he said, much more quietly than she had. Typically, Grace was the sensible and quiet one, who softened the harsh edges of the twins- today, however, she was as bubbly as they ever were, due to her excitement for Christmas and the Yule Ball.

Fred followed his twin out of the door a moment later, joining in with the hug but flicking the back of George's head hard, so he didn't know who had done it. He and Grace burst into laughter as George rubbed the back of his head overdramatically, and they all moved over to the settee.

"From both of us," George said, handing her two parcels, one much heavier than the other.

"Uh- excuse _me_!" Fred said dramatically, as Grace read the labels attached to the terribly wrapped packages, "They're actually from me, I sent off for them, and I wrapped them, because _someone_ was being a moody git,"

George shoved his brother off the settee, and he crashed into the side table, smashing the oil lamp on it. Used to cleaning up after the twins, Grace simply swished her wand and muttered "reparo", gesturing for George to pick up the lamp (and his brother) from the floor.

"Well, if you want to be technical, I _chose_ the gifts, and we funded the, together with the sales from a few of our latest products," George said, grinning, "So yes, they're from _both of us_ ,"

Shaking her head at their behaviour, Grace began to open the presents (with great difficulty, because they had used an excessive amount of spellotape and string when wrapping them). In one, she found a box of chocolate frogs, and in the other a brand new, _hardback_ copy of Emma by Jane Austen. Her eyes gleamed as she grinned at her best friends, throwing her arms around them both.

"I love you!" she exclaimed, refusing to let go until she had hugged them to an extent that she deemed sufficient, before kissing both their cheeks. The gifts were amongst the most thoughtful she had ever received, and she could not thank them enough.

George was almost as red as his hair when Grace pulled away from them both. "I did read a copy of it that I found in the muggle section of the library- uh, that Knightley fella is great," he said, looking proud of himself.

Grace beamed at this, heartwarmed that he had taken the time to read her favourite book, even when she had given him every right to be upset with her. She honestly felt rotten about that, but the fact did stand that he had upset her the night of the party, so she decided they were now even.

She then handed them their gifts, jittering with excitement. Was there anything better than seeing the way their faces lit up?

The first gift, which had them howling with laughter when they had opened it, was a pair of matching " _I'm with stupid!"_ t-shirts. Once, when showing Mr Weasley some muggle photos of her trip to Blackpool, Fred had spotted those silly novelty t-shirts in the background and joked that he needed one, for whenever he was with George or Ron. Mrs Weasley had scolded him, adding that, if anything, they _both_ needed them since they were never out of each other's company. Grace apparently had a very good memory, and had bought them when she'd visited the seaside with her family over summer, knowing that they would make for very good Christmas presents.

The other gifts were an antique pocket watch (which the muggle seller had thought her ridiculous for buying- it hadn't worked for years, but she had managed to fix it up with magic) for Fred, and a nice leather wallet for George, which she had charmed to only open to his touch. Usually she would not have bought them something so extravagant- but this year she had finally been old enough to work her first part-time job, not to mention the fact that she hadn't had to get anything for Cho or her parents.

"You're never on time, Fred, so I thought of a watch. But then I thought of all the snazzy suits you'll be buying when you're rich from running your joke emporium, and I thought an eccentric little pocket watch would be much better," she explained, as Fred marvelled at the intricate engraving of a lion on the front of the watch- that had just been luck, in fact it was what had brought the item to Grace's attention in the first place.

"And the wallet, George- obviously somewhere to keep all the money you'll make from selling wizard kids products that'll make them _sick_ ," she joked, as he admired the fact that his initials had been embossed on the front of it- G.W, just like Grace's. He pushed the intruding thought that, if she ever miraculously decided she was in love with him and they married, she'd never have to change her initials, and thanked her profusely for the gift, though he added that it wouldn't have much use for the next year.

Fred, who claimed he had forgotten something in his dorm, disappeared for a few minutes, leaving George and Grace alone on the settee.

"I've missed you," Grace said, leaning her head on his shoulder as she watched the flames flicker in the fireplace.

"I missed you too. I'm not used to us not being friends," he told her, keeping his voice flat.

"Me neither, I felt like I was missing something. Madam Pince isn't half as fun as you,"

"I didn't expect her to be," he grinned. He still sounded half asleep, his voice raspy and lower than usual. "Merry Christmas, Gracie," he said, leaning his head atop hers.

"You two have finally kissed and made up then!" Fred exclaimed, bursting back into the room with some parcels from his parents. A poor word choice, he realised, as George threw the bundle of brown wrapping paper at his head.

After opening her gifts from Mr and Mrs Weasley (a lovely royal blue turtleneck which Mrs Weasley had knitted herself, and some mince pies), and from Ginny (a few wizarding beauty magazines- pre-read, but this didn't bother Grace), they all headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hardly anyone was sticking to the house tables that morning, choosing instead to mix and mingle with their friends from any house to celebrate the holidays. Ginny had come down once Grace and the twins had settled at a table, throwing her arms around Grace and thanking her profusely for the eyeshadow pallet that she'd got her from Boots. Cedric had followed shortly after, sitting next to her and pressing a kiss to her cheek with a low "Merry Christmas" before telling her she'd get her present later. She thought that a kiss was a sufficiently good present, though she didn't tell him this, and agreed that they would exchange their gifts after the ball.

The spread was lovely, though it was interrupted when a brown school-owned owl flew over and dropped a letter in front of Grace. She thought that odd- she was only really ever written to by Mrs Weasley, and she wouldn't have used a school owl, of course. Fear rising in her chest, she turned the envelope over in her hands, seeing the Queen's head in the top right corner. Muggle mail.

"Bollocks," she muttered, her face dropping as she was reluctant to open it, "It's from my mum,"

Cedric was about to offer to read it for her when Fred took it out of her hands. It was practically tradition by now that he would read the letters from her mother on the rare occasion they were sent, if only to raise her spirits. She didn't mind this, since she'd tell them both what the letters said anyway. They'd comforted her many a time after she received these letters, mostly in first year; they had always upset her a great deal more than any howler had bothered the twins. Thankfully, Grace's parents didn't even know what a howler was, and would never get to send one.

Owing to his meeting her once (albeit very briefly) at Kings Cross in second year, Fred felt as though his impression of Mrs Wynfield was just _exceptional_. He had her shrillness down to a T, Grace told him, and he only exaggerated her affectations to distract Grace from the horrible contents of these letters.

He ripped open the envelope before clearing his throat and adopting a terrible northern accent, somewhere between Lancashire and Geordie- the inaccuracy of this only made it funnier, and Grace was already grinning in spite of herself knowing how funny this impersonation would be.

" _Grace Frances Wynfield,"_ he began, almost shrieking out each word.

"Frances!" Cedric exclaimed, "I didn't realise you had a middle name,"

"Dreadful, isn't it?" she groaned- Cedric thought it was quite cute, but decided not to say so. "Full name _and_ she didn't write 'dear'- I'm really bloody in for it this time, aren't I?"

Fred cleared his throat louder, hushing them with a mockingly pointed glare, still taking off Grace's mother.

" _You are an utter disgrace! After the way you spoke to me before you left for that ridiculous '_ MAGICIAN' _school, you ought to be pleading for our forgiveness. I can't believe you have neglected your duty to your family and your education- staying over Christmas is the final straw."_

"You're going a bit Scottish there," George pointed out, critical as ever about the impression. Ginny laughed at this, agreeing with him. "Ought to let me read it," he said, leaning over to get a look at the letter.

"I think not, laddy!" Fred screeched, still doing an awful job at impersonating Mrs Wynfield as he snatched the letter away from his brother, before continuing reading from the letter. " _I meant what I said about you leaving home. I will not have an insolent child under my roof, and if we had anything worth owning you would be disinherited. We will be renting out your room, so we will be placing your things in storage- unless you choose to see sense and abandon this ridiculous fantasy of_ magic. _I hope you enjoy Christmas with your new family, as you will not be spending it with us again._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_P. Wynfield"_

As soon as Fred was done reading, Cedric wrapped his arm around Grace, cautious that she might be very upset by what she'd just heard. She wasn't as upset as she thought she might be; she'd known that she was being kicked out, so it wasn't exactly news to her, but she leaned into his embrace nonetheless, the soft, warm wool of his jumper very comforting to her. He smelt like vanilla and oud wood, just as the scarf he had given her did.

"No tears today, Gracie, it's your favourite day of the year!" Fred said, tilting his head down to make eye contact with her. She couldn't help but smile at how silly he looked, with his head cocked at that angle.

"That's better. Think of it as a celebration. You never had to live with that silly old bint again!" he exclaimed, tearing the letter into lots of tiny pieces before throwing it in the air like confetti. Hermione, further down the long table, rolled her eyes at his display as some of his makeshift confetti landed in her drink, but didn't say anything as she knew that Grace probably felt a bit worse than she was letting on.

"Exactly," George said, "I reckon mum will actually adopt you at this rate, y'know,"

"Hmm, I'll drink to that," she said, smirking as she raised her glass of pumpkin juice. "From this day forth, I'm Grace Weasley!"

"Grace _Frances_ Weasley," Cedric corrected with a grin, and she nudged her shoulder with her own at his use of her awful middle name. Really, Cedric thought he'd like to correct that to Grace Frances Diggory one day- but since he'd only asked her out about 2 weeks ago, he kept that to himself. Save that for your daydreams, Diggory. Merlin, Herbology could get boring at times.

~*~

Though Grace sometimes felt like a bit of a lab rat when Ginny wanted to test her latest beauty products and techniques, she couldn't deny that Ginny was _really good_. She had told the girl that she didn't want anything too heavy, and Ginny had complied, only accentuating Grace's best features. Of course Grace could have done it herself- it's not like she was a stranger to makeup, but she knew Ginny would have a lot more fun doing it than her and, besides, the younger girl had insisted on doing it for her.

First of all Ginny had done her foundation and concealer (and it was a blessing that Ginny was ginger, because Grace didn't think she knew anyone else who was as freakishly pale as she was besides Ginny), smoothing her complexion until she looked like a porcelain doll. She had brushed out her thick brows, and neatened them up with tweezers and scissors- thankfully she had done this _before_ mascara, because Grace's eyes wouldn't stop watering for a good 10 minutes after her sneeze-attack. She'd also applied some shimmering eyeshadow and a soft pink lip.

Grace had never seen anything like it before. She felt more beautiful than she had before in her life, throwing her arms around Ginny, who chastised her. "Not- done- yet!" she gasped, as Grace made up for the tight embrace that Ginny had trapped her in over summer.

After about two hours, Grace was ready. Ginny had turned her usually-unruly waves into soft curls, falling just above her shoulders.

"You look... beautiful," Hermione had said, looking over at her once Ginny had finished working her magic.

Ginny nodded, looking proudly at her fine work, "Yeah, everyone will be jealous of Cedric. Especially George," she added, with a smirk.

Grace rolled her eyes at this, not paying much mind to the second half of Ginny's comment, "Don't be daft, everyone will be watching you two. Ron'll eat his words when he sees you, Hermione,"

Flushing, Hermione looked down at her hands in her lap. "Who cares what he thinks?" she mumbled.

"I'm not sure who he'll be more jealous of, Krum or Hermione!" Ginny laughed, poking fun at Ron's obsession with the Bulgarian quidditch player- he absolutely idolised him.

"I suppose we should be off," Grace said, looking at the clock on the sideboard, "It's half-past,"

Squealing with delight, Ginny hurried over to the door. She had wanted to announce that they were coming down, but Hermione thought that was a bit _too far_ , so they simply made their way down the steps, Grace bringing up the rear.

Her footing on the stairs was slightly unsteady- she only really wore heels when her mother made her for dinner parties, and even then they were always kitten heels. Ginny had gone a bit overboard with the pair she had lent her, trying to match her up to Cedric's height. Nonetheless, she made her way down the stairs without breaking any bones. So busy watching the steps, however, she missed Fred nudging George in the side with his elbow.

"Oh, Godric," he whispered to George, "Shouldn'tve broke up when we were twelve, look at her!"

Grace's gown was a pale grey, adorned with shimmering silver stars, which had been embroidered mostly on the bodice. She had had the urge to cover up with a wrap- the dress was off her shoulders, and not only did that worry her that she might be cold, but that she felt weirdly exposed. Ginny had waved off her concerns, telling her it looked much better without, but having her add a small pendant to stop her chest from looking too bare.

George, his breath hitching in his throat, was in such a state of shock as he saw Grace make her way down the stairs that it took him a moment to realise what Fred had just said. "Mm," he agreed, "and I should've made my move before that stupid ponce, Diggory,"

"Aw, cheer up, little one," Fred laughed, patting his brother on the back. Sure, they were identical twins- but Fred prided himself on being born first. George was very much a believer in 'first-the-worst' when it came to this. "Can't win 'em all. And we're only sixteen, who knows how long those two will last,"

George nodded, though not entirely convinced. "Oh, come on," Fred said, covertly handing his brother his flask of firewhisky. His throat burned as he took a sip, but it was a nice sort of pain. "Enjoy tonight- you've got a date. You can't mope over her forever. As beautiful as she is..." he trailed off, seeing Grace beaming and laughing musically as she chatted with Ginny and Neville. Her voice only carried faintly over the bustling Gryffindor common room, which was bursting with bright colours of the many dress robes and gowns.

Catching the twins staring at her, Grace excused herself and made her way over to them.

"Hiya- want a photo, or what?" she teased, and George looked particularly flustered. "Don't let your dates catch you gawping like that,"

"Har-har," Fred mocked, but he couldn't even keep his sarcasm up for long. "You look lovely, Gracie,"

"Really, uh, lovely," George seconded. He was still having some problems breathing, honestly. He had always thought that Grace was very pretty- even after the first time she had traipsed down for breakfast at the Burrow and had her hair sticking up in every direction, or the time Fred had insisted they camp in the garden. That night, however, the fact hit him in the face like a lorry. It wasn't just the hair, or the makeup, although both were very skillfully done; it was simply the way she held herself, the confidence boost, the fact she couldn't stop smiling. She simply looked ethereal. What a stupid bloody cliché, George thought to himself, to fall in love with your best friend. It was like something out of the muggle films that Grace would tell Ginny about.

Grace merely beamed wider. "Looking quite dashing yourselves, boys. But I meant it- we should probably take a picture, if only for your mum's sake,"

And so they did, with Colin Creevey more than happy to take pictures of everyone, as long as he could get a few more of Harry. A bit strange, Grace thought, but understandable she supposed. Being a muggleborn herself, she sort of understood his obsession with taking _moving_ photographs. She'd started something of a scrapbook when she first found out that wizard photographs moved, and whilst she had made it seem as though taking pictures with the twins and her friends was for the benefit of Mrs Weasley, it was equally as exciting to her to get the moving prints. Even the twins and Neville took a few of the prints- probably to show his nan, or anyone else who would ever speak to him, that he took Ginny to the ball.

"That's a nice one," Grace said, looking down at a picture of herself with the twins on each side of her, their arms around her. They were all laughing at something that Fred had said, and Grace thought they looked quite ridiculous but _so happy_. The thing with wizard photos was the way they captured an instant- they were somehow much more sentimental than muggle photos. Grace would find herself looking at this picture many times in the future, she knew, wishing she could return to the moment. The youthful innocence, the pure joy of it.

Fred peered over her shoulder, agreeing with her before checking the pocket watch she had given him this morning. "Right, let's get a move on, it's starting soon,"


	13. Chapter 13

Grace had just realised quite a glaring problem: she was not a very good dancer.

Of course she had danced before, at small gatherings and events with her parents, and her primary school disco (though she was fairly sure that dancing to 'Superman' _wouldn't_ be on tonight's agenda) but she wasn't particularly good at it, and she lacked the balance needed to look graceful when she did so. She only imagined that, as with everything else, Cedric would be very good at it. Too late now, she told herself as she steeled her nerves, you can't back out now.

She made her way down the staircase, still holding onto George's arm. He was taking a girl from Hufflepuff who he had planned to meet just outside the hall, and as such had offered to escort Grace. It was the least he could do, he thought, having not worked up the courage to ask her himself.

"Gracie?" he said in a low voice, as they made their way down the steps, turning a few heads.

"Mhm?"

"Will you save a dance for me?"

"Of course- couldn't miss an opportunity to trample on your feet, could I?" she joked, though her voice was shaky with the nerves.

He only smiled, and when they got to the bottom of the steps, he looked down at her. They had paused in the middle of something of a crowd, probably to the irritation of the students who were making their way to the entrance hall. "I hope you have a nice night," he told her, sincerely, before adding, "And if he's in too much pain to go on, I'll be waiting for you,"

"You too," she laughed.

It was then that Cedric, standing with Harry and Parvati, Fleur and Roger Davies, and Hermione and Krum, spotted Grace. He couldn't quite believe his luck, and struggled to keep a smile from creeping onto his face as he stood there, dumbstruck. Everyone around him probably thought he had gone mad, just smiling like an idiot, but in that moment it didn't matter to him what anyone thought- not even his father. Forget eternal glory, he thought- there was only one thing that he thought he'd quite like for eternity, and he was staring right at her.

"Grace!" he called, reaching her in a few quick strides. He didn't have to crane his neck quite so much to meet her eyes, which sparkled in the dim light of the entrance hall. His heart thumped in his chest- pretty girls _might_ actually be scarier than dragons, when you're in love with them at least.

Her face lit up as Cedric met her, reaching for her hand to press a kiss to it. George must have decided that was his cue to leave, as he shuffled away to find his date.

"You're- uh- wow," was all that Cedric could manage, as his grey eyes filled with wonder.

"Hmm, well you're quite 'wow' yourself, Mr Diggory," Grace teased. Though she had been feeling quite nervous before, she had to say that Ginny's little transformation was giving her a pretty even playing field at the moment. Note to self, she thought- let Ginny do my hair and makeup whenever she asks, in future.

They both laughed at this, and Cedric's nerves seemed to melt away as he lightly placed his hand on her waist, guiding her over to the entrance to the Great Hall, where McGonagall was ready to open the doors. The students made their way in, a steady stream of them; once they were all in, the champions and their partners were instructed to form a line in their pairs, following McGonagall into the Great Hall where they were applauded.

Grace's heart was light as she took in the beauty of the Hall. Hogwarts never looked bad, of course, and the decorations for events only added to the old charm of the place. But this was almost dreamlike, at least to Grace. The ceiling showed the clear, starry sky, and garlands and streamers were strung across the width of the Hall, where the dining tables had been replaced by small, round ones, with white cloths covering them. It reminded her of something from a fairytale, or a film- like the ball that Cinderella attended. Hopefully no one was planning to transform her gown into rag at the end of the night.

She had to make a conscious effort not to stare in amazement at the decorations, else she might fall straight on her face in front of the whole school, so Grace waited until they had reached the top table before she truly looked around. Cedric didn't look at anything but her, though, watching her adoringly. It made George sick to his stomach.

Seated at the top table, the nerves began to rise once again in Grace. A hundred eyes must be on them, she thought, and it would be just her luck if she spilt her drink down her lovely gown. It was awkward enough, eating surrounded by hundreds of people every day- privacy was a rare commodity at Hogwarts, which made quite a difference to all the meals that Grace had eaten alone in her room at home- but this was just something else.

She ordered just what Cedric did, assuming his taste would be much more refined than hers, and she enjoyed his choices thoroughly. She had to stifle a giggle in her napkin as she thought of Caroline Bingley in Pride and Prejudice, drawling on about how balls would be much better if the order of the day were conversation, rather than dancing. How she loathed Caroline Bingley! And yet, in that moment, she couldn't help but think her to be quite rational in her line of thinking. Sitting here and making pleasant conversation with Cedric for the rest of the evening would be much more enjoyable, she thought- or, even better, sitting in the astronomy tower, away from the crowds of people, with Cedric. "Much more pleasant, but not so much like a ball", she conceded to herself, and allowed Cedric to guide her to the dance floor.

The band, The Weird Sisters, began playing a rather slow tune as the champions reached the centre of the Hall. Cedric, one hand still on Grace's waist, took her own hand in his other, and they began to dance alongside Harry and Parvati. Luckily, the dance was reasonably simple, slow, and mostly consisted of the odd spin- Grace could manage that, though the odd glance over at Harry told her he wasn't having such luck with it. As predicted, Cedric was a very good dancer, and managed to lead gracefully, weaving in and out of the other couples who had made their way onto the dance floor.

Grace caught Neville, poor thing, consistently trampling on Ginny's feet- Ginny shot her a mournful look, probably wishing that she'd gone with someone else. Neville was lovely, but evidently very clumsy. Then again, Ginny was coping admirably, in comparison with Harry, who kept tripping over his long robes.

Her attention was brought back to Cedric, whose eyes had scarcely left her once. He smiled at her now, his face aching from how frequently he had that night. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Surprisingly, I am," she told him, keeping her voice low but audible. He almost frowned, before she added, "I was really nervous about the dancing,"

He was relieved by this amendment, twirling her round again. "Well, you're doing a very good job at the dancing," he assured her.

"I've got a very good partner," she said, grinning at him. "I wasn't sure you'd ask me, y'know. For a moment,"

This time he did frown, only slightly. He was much prettier when he was smiling, she decided. "Why would you think that? I've been mad about you since summer, who else could I possibly ask?"

She blushed furiously at that, and his frown faded. It was reassuring to know that she felt just as enamoured as he did. "Well, with everything that happened before... and then you did take your time in asking me. And I heard that Fleur asked you, and she's just- well, she's Fleur!" Grace answered, the words tumbling out of her mouth. Maybe she shouldn't have had any of the firewhiskey offered to her by the twins- it was much stronger than muggle alcohol, not that she'd touched much more than a glass of wine at her parents' dinner parties. She was prone to what her mother would call 'verbal diarrhea'.

"That's true- that Fleur _is_ , in fact, Fleur," he laughed, "and that she asked me to the Yule Ball. But as you can see, I'm currently here with you, because I turned her down," he spun her again, sighing. "For me, there was never a question of who I would take; it was always you. Well, I suppose there was one question, and that was whether or not you'd go with me,"

"Don't say that any louder, your fan club will have my guts for garters," she teased, alluding to the gaggle of girls standing against the walls and glaring at her, wishing they had Cedric Diggory's undivided attention in that moment.

He chuckled softly. "I mean it, Grace. I know you always turn everything nice that I say to you into a joke, because you don't know how to take a compliment," he told her, hitting the nail on the head, "but I've been hopelessly mooning over you ever since I saw you at the portkey on that hill. If anyone's the Earth angel, it's you,"

With that, she couldn't help herself. They were quite near to the edge of the Hall, and as such she had no fear of them bumping into another couple. So she closed her eyes and reached up every so slightly to press a kiss to his soft, pink lips. Which, of course, he returned, his hand tightening every so slightly on her waist as his other hand came up to cup her face gently.

"Hands where I can see them, Diggory!" Fred heckled them as he whizzed past with Angelina. He was going at about twice the tempo of the song, spinning her around wildly, but they seemed to be having the time of their lives. Grace and Cedric broke apart, laughing slightly at Fred, but maintaining eye contact.

"I think that fulfills the terms of our IOU," she whispered, at something of a loss for words.

~*~

After much more dancing, the pair were absolutely gasping for a drink, and Grace made her way over to the table where the Weasley twins, Harry, Ron, and the Patil twins were sitting, whilst Cedric disappeared to get them some punch.

"Someone's having fun," Fred teased her, wrapping his arms around himself to imitate snogging. Grace blushed bright red, and George was suddenly very interested in his punch cup.

"I couldn't say so much for others," she shot back, casting a glance at George. "Where's his date?"

Fred nodded over at the Hufflepuff girl, now happily wrapped in the arms of one of the boys from Beauxbatons.

"Aw, George, cheer up. It's not like you _really_ fancied her or anything,"

"Yeah, I thought you liked-" Ron began, but George cut him off, asking where Cedric was.

"Oh, he's just getting drinks," she explained, her voice slightly croaky from the dryness. George handed her his own cup, though he warned her it had been mixed with a liberal amount of firewhisky, and she gratefully sipped it. He really did look glum.

She looked around for Cedric- it seemed he had been caught in a conversation with his friends now, anyway. He gave her an apologetic smile as she glanced over, but she held up the cup and gave him a thumbs up to let him know it was fine. Knowing he wouldn't mind, she turned to George, holding out her hand.

"How about that dance?" she offered, and he looked up, a fleeting smile on his face.

"Sure," he replied, and he let her pull him to his feet.

They danced next to Fred and Angelina, The Weird Sisters playing a strange, up-tempo song that Grace had never heard before. Fred and Angelina thrashed wildly, Fred even headbanging at points, which gave Grace a stitch from laughing. George was much less energetic than usual, thought Grace.

Just as she leaned in to his ear to ask what was wrong, trying to combat the racket of the band, the song ended. She paused, meeting his uncertain look. The music had become much slower, almost mournful. It was probably supposed to be romantic, but judging from the wild look of the band, they weren't used to this style.

Deciding they would keep dancing, the two swayed gently, George's hands on her waist, and her hands resting firmly on his shoulders. He was looking steadfastly over her shoulder, seemingly determined to avoid making eye-contact with her. Perhaps he hadn't really forgiven her for everything, as she had thought this morning, for he had returned to his previous mood.

"What's up, Georgie?" she whispered, as the music was now much quieter than before

He shrugged slightly, "Nothing,"

"C'mon, you can't lie to me," she said, using her hand to turn his face towards her, so he couldn't keep avoiding looking her in the eyes.

"There's nothing wrong," he insisted, in a low voice.

"You're not yourself," she said, trying to choose her words carefully so that she didn't upset him any more. "You've been much more quiet, you seem sadder, and distant from me. We never keep secrets from each other,"

And it was, for the most part, true. They had told each other and Fred every cunning scheme, and she had confided in them both about her parents. This was the only thing that George had kept from Grace, ever. She supposed everyone had secrets, things they wouldn't talk about; when she had had a crush on George, she had never said anything, not wanting to ruin their friendship. She had decided it was obvious enough anyway- if he hadn't said anything, it was because he didn't want to, and she could accept that. Eventually, she had got over the silly little crush, deciding she had just misunderstood her feelings and any signs she thought she'd seen, and she had returned to keeping nothing from him.

"You really want to know?"

"Of course, I want to help you!" she pleaded, fighting to keep her voice low.

He stopped dancing. They were near the doors, and he took her hand to lead her to the entrance hall. She cast a look over her shoulder, hoping she wasn't leaving Cedric alone.

The air in the entrance hall was much cooler, perhaps because it was empty, save for some fifth years who were copping off. They scurried off when they heard George and Grace, and George shrugged off his jacket, leaning against the cold, stone walls, looking up at the ceiling. She couldn't help noticing that he looked torn apart- this was clearly a matter much more pressing than feeling slightly ignored by his best friend, she decided, and tried to compose herself to advise him.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can be fixed," she said, in a voice that she hoped sounded reassuring, "We've never had a problem that we couldn't solve together before,"

He just laughed half-heartedly at this. "I don't think that approach will work this time,"

Stepping forward, she squeezed his hand, "Please, George. You're worrying me. Please, just tell me what it is, I promise I'll do my best to try and help-"

"Why don't you ask yourself why I'm upset?" he asked.

Oh, so it was about the neglect.

"Oh, well- I get it, you're upset because I've been a bit... busy, lately, and I haven't been around as much. I know, it's weird after all the time I've spent with the two of you, I just didn't think that you'd mind so much, you've got loads of other friends,"

When he simply looked at her blankly, she continued.

"Er- and the other thing is... Well, I know that you don't like Cedric that much,"

"At all," he corrected.

"And that's why I hung around you less, I didn't want to bring him around you when you can't stand him. I tried to divide my time evenly, but we've had so much homework and there was the task and-" she knew she was starting to ramble, so she took a few deep breaths to steady herself. George ran a hand through his hair, as though he was preparing himself for something.

"If you want me around more, then- well, couldn't you at least try to get on with him?" she begged, unable to think of any other solution. She was spreading herself thin as it was, and she didn't want to cause any more upset. "Cut me some slack. You're holding a year-long grudge about a bloody _Quidditch match_ , even Fred and Harry have moved passed it and-"

His head snapped up and he looked at her incredulously.

"That's why you think I hate him?!" he exclaimed, straightening up slightly now.

"Well, yeah-"

"For someone so smart, you're bloody oblivious at times, did you know that?" he said, with a pained expression.

"Please, _please_ , just tell me what's going on. If something's happened with him, something that I don't know about, you can tell me! If he's done something to you or- " she threw up her hands in exasperation, "You know you're my best friend, if he's done something to you I won't tolerate that but- How can I understand what's going on, if no one tells me?"

She sounded on the verge of tears by now, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. Perhaps she should've brought a wrap, she thought, as goosebumps rose on her arms.

That was a fair judgement; Grace was a very logical person. She made decisions based on what she knew, weighing up her evidence like a debate or an essay plan. Of course, sometimes she was driven by emotions, everyone was. But how could she come to a conclusion, without having all the evidence?

George sighed. "I don't hate Cedric for beating us in a quidditch match," he stated plainly. "I was annoyed, we all were, but Hufflepuff beat us and that's that. I hate him for..." he heaved a deep sigh, "I hate him for having the balls to do what I didn't,"

Grace felt somewhat taken aback. She wasn't expecting this; it sounded like some kind of confession, but of what she did not know.

"Entering the Triwizard Tournament? You couldn't have anyway, you weren't old eno-"

"For telling you that he loves you."

"Oh. You...?"

"I love you," he told her, his wild eyes meeting her tearful ones, before correcting himself, "No, we've always loved each other but I suppose the problem is that I'm _in_ love with you,"

This lingered in the chilly December air for a moment.

"I've been an idiot this whole time, hoping you'd just realise how I felt. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, I just didn't know that you'd- you and Cedric. And I don't know how I didn't see it coming because how couldn't he love you? You're you."

She was truly at a loss for words, this time.

"And I know I'm too late, telling you now. Merlin, I've had the past six years to tell you-"

"You've liked me for six-"

"More like four," he conceded. "But that's not the point. I've had my chance and I was too much of a coward to take it, and now that ship has sailed,"

It was true; that ship had sailed. She had gotten over her school-girl crush months ago, giving it up as a lost cause. If it was meant to happen, it would, she had told herself. But now she was firmly enamoured with Cedric. It would be unfair to tell George that she had ever returned his feelings, when she no longer did. That would give him hope that they might return- she couldn't do that to him, nor to Cedric. Better to rip off the plaster now, so he could finally move on.

"It has, I'm sorry," she admitted, biting the inside of her cheek to stop the tears from welling. She couldn't cry now, and make him feel bad, or ruin Ginny's hard work. This was supposed to be a happy night, one of the best of her life. But now it felt sad, like the end of something. "I wish I could give you some other answer,"

She reached up enfolding him in her arms, and when he recovered from the shock of her action, he hugged her back, tighter than ever. She rested her head on his shoulder, hiding her face from him in hopes that he couldn't hear the sadness in her voice.

"You know I'll always love you, you're my best friend and- I'd die, without you," she told him, her voice slightly muffled as her tears soaked into his shirt. "But not like that, Georgie. I'm so, so sorry,"

He patted her back, closing his eyes.

"I know. I knew that, when I told you. But I thought you should know,"

"I'm glad you told me," she admitted, "so I can be more mindful, in future,"

He frowned down at her, "I don't want anything to change,"

"No, no, of course," she sniffled. "This- it doesn't change anything, it'll always be Weasleys and Wynfield,"

All he could do was smile sadly. He had hoped that, one day, it might just be Weasleys.

"And you'll get over me. Find a much better girl, who can love you just the same as you love her," she told him, pulling away from the damp patch on his shoulder, smiling up at him tearfully.

"There's no one better than you, Gracie,"

And it was true, wasn't it? There never had been anyone better than her, not to George; of course, there was Fred, but he was more a part of George, he almost didn't count as a whole other person. He had never known a life without Fred. But Grace... he bit back his tears. Grace wasn't this extension of himself, wasn't a mirrored image of him, or someone who could just read his mind, as Fred was- Grace was the same in all the ways that truly mattered, but so different, so independent of him. That's what he loved. That she had her own thoughts, her own interests, her own limits. He had lived a life without her, and knew he didn't want to live that life again.

Godric, he didn't care if she wasn't so enthusiastic about Quidditch, because she always cheered them on at every single match; she didn't always know exactly what he was thinking, and he loved her in spite of her obliviousness, and he loved that she would bring her own thoughts, merge them with his until they had something better. He loved the way her northern accent would always be stronger in September, and turn into her own unique way of speaking by July. He loved the way she fell asleep with a book still in her hands, and he'd have to go rooting for a scrap of paper to mark it for her, before he'd bought her the bookmark with the owl on it.

And if he couldn't have her romantically- if he'd missed the only chance he'd ever get to Cedric or if she could just never see him as more than her best friend- then he was only grateful to know her, and to be part of the pair that she called her best friends.

Grace was no less crushed by the situation. She had seen George's pain, since she had become closer with Cedric, but she didn't dare to think that this might be the reason. She had scolded herself, told herself she was just being silly, just reminiscing about the old times. Times when she had almost just leaned in and kissed him, almost told him how she felt when she and the twins had had too much firewhisky.

What would she have done, had she known of George's feelings before she had pursued Cedric? If he had asked her not to be with Cedric? Would anything have even come of it, or would it have been as awkward and short-lived as she and Fred had been in second year, quickly discovering that they were far better as best friends?

She refused to ask herself those questions. Her love for Cedric was unquestionable; her love for George was in the past, in all ways but platonic. There would always be questions of "what if?", perhaps, but as Fleur had told her "everything 'appens for a reason". Grace thought that that was a good enough motto.

Footsteps echoed through the entrance hall, and they both looked towards the doorway. Cedric stood there, smiling at the two, before he realised the gravity of the discussion they must be having.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, worriedly. "It's just that you've been gone a while, I thought I'd better look for you,"

"Everything is fine," she assured him, squeezing George's shoulder comfortingly before stepping towards Cedric and taking his extended hand. George smiled at them- both of them- and made his way back into the Great Hall, as the couple watched after him.

"Are you sure everything's alright?" Cedric asked, unconvinced as he wiped a tear from Grace's cheek with his thumb.

"It will be," she said, taking a deep breath, "I'll explain later,"

He offered her a small smile, accepting this. "How about I give you your present now?"

And with that, he led her to the Astronomy Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad about this chapter... I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for all the hits and kudos <3


	14. Chapter 14

Once she reached the top of the steps that opened onto the Astronomy Tower, Grace's mouth dropped open at what lay before her; a picnic blanket had been laid out on the cold, stone floor of the tower, where a large woven basket sat next to an equally large silver package that was tied with thick blue ribbon. A pale blue glow had been cast upon the quaint scene, owing to the mason jars of Blue Bell flames which had been dotted around the tower, providing just enough light to make it all visible.

A grin spread across Grace's face as she turned to Cedric, who stood just behind her, watching her with anticipation.

"You like it, then?" he asked, raising his brow with a smile.

"I love it," she told him, stepping forward to take his hands in hers. Her hands were dwarfed by his, but they emanated great warmth against her icy fingers. Grace thought it was remarkable how he was always warm, no matter the weather- it was soothing to always have someone to counteract the biting cold, almost as though the sun was always shining as long as he was there.

"I'm glad," he told her, squeezing her hands, "because I wanted to make tonight special. It's not Christmas every day, you know,"

"Funny you should say so, there's a muggle song about that," she chuckled, suppressing a shiver.

"Oh-" he said, noticing her slight shudder, "Yeah, I may have overlooked that part. It's freezing up here," he said shrugging off the jacket of his dress robes to drape it over her shoulders, just as he had that night at the Quidditch World Cup. She quickly repressed any memory of that night and gratefully wrapped the greatly-oversized dress jacket around herself,

"I'll survive," she assured him as they moved to sit on the picnic blanket.

From the woven basket, he pulled the enchanted CD player from the Hufflepuff common room, as well as a blue CD case. Grace recognised the disc instantly and her eyes lit up- with fondness, she recalled seeing it in her grandparents' vinyl collection when she was a young girl. She had spent many an hour dancing around to this with her grandmother, always simply asking her grandmother to play it "one more time". That was before, back when she had a seemingly limitless store of energy, and her parents had a seemingly limitless store of love.

It was Witchcraft by Frank Sinatra, and he sat smiling on the cover, a dark trilby on his head - she had always loved the crooners, had dreamt of slow dancing to them one day, with someone she loved. It surprised her, slightly, how well Cedric knew her already.

He caught her looking at the disc in his hand as he placed it into the CD player carefully, minding not to touch the shiny side, and a soft blush crept over his sharp cheekbones.

"As I told you, I don't know much about muggle music, but one of the muggleborn girls told me that Frank Sinatra was romantic... Uh, she wasn't pulling my leg, right?" he said, bracing himself to find out that it had merely been a joke.

"No, no," Grace laughed, patting his arm gently, "She wasn't messing with you. I love Sinatra,"

"Thank Merlin for that," he laughed, pressing the "play" and "shuffle" buttons on the CD player, "She had a few of his CDs, but I thought that 'Witchcraft' was quite a fitting title,"

Frank's mellow voice crooned out of the tinny speakers of the CD player, and it was at the perfect level to drown out The Weird Sisters downstairs, who were now playing a heavy rock number.

_You make me feel so young_

_You make me feel as though spring has sprung_

_And every time I see your grin_

_I'm such a happy individual..._

Cedric smiled at this, looking over at Grace through his long lashes. "I listened to it a few times, in the dorm- it's hard to believe he's a muggle, the music had me in a sort of trance the first time around," he told her, looking shy to admit to this.

"The power of Sinatra," she said dramatically, laughing slightly before shuffling across the picnic blanket and resting her head on his shoulder, to which he responded by pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

They sat in a comfortable quiet through the first few songs, merely enjoying each other's company and sipping the cool butterbeers that Cedric had pulled from the basket. Cedric would ask about some of the songs, just little muggle things that he didn't understand; Grace thought it was adorable, if not slightly out of touch.

"Aren't you going to ask what the silver package is?" Cedric asked her, glancing over at the gift, which still sat tied neatly with the blue ribbon.

"Well, I was wondering," she grinned, looking up at him. Though she had almost reached his height with her heels on, sitting on the floor emphasised his height once again, making her feel small and protected, "but I was _trying_ to exercise patience,"

Cedric let out a low, breathy chuckle at this, knowing that patience was not her strong point. He leant forward, his arms flexing slightly with the weight of the box as he lifted it and placed it gently in front of her. "Be careful," he warned, "it's quite heavy,"

She looked at him, somewhat cautiously, but smiling nonetheless. Pulling lightly on one end of the blue ribbon untied the neat bow, and she peeled back the silver wrapping paper with excitement. A cardboard box sat inside, which she could have sworn she had seen before.

"So this is what you picked up when you were running your little errand?" she said, looking between Cedric and the box with a growing smile on her lips. He nodded eagerly, propped up on his elbow.

"I hope you like it," he told her, "because it took a lot of hunting down,"

"I know I will," she assured him, unpeeling the spello-tape that sealed the box. She pulled it back in one satisfying tug, opening the flaps of the box before letting them fall shut again.

"Holy- You _didn't_!" she said, looking over at Cedric in awe. He blushed but smirked nonetheless, fidgeting with the spello-tape that she had discarded on the floor.

"I did," he beamed, leaning forward to help her to pull the gift from the box.

It was an old-looking typewriter- probably 1930s, she thought, though she was no expert- made of a dark mahogany base and small, round, metal keys. The name of the make was printed across the middle in cursive gold script. Undeniably, it was one of the most beautiful things that she had ever seen, and she didn't yet know the half of it.

"You're amazing!" she told him, after sitting and taking in the glory of the old typewriter. She threw her arms tightly around him, knocking him back slightly, and he chuckled softly into her hair as he hugged her back.

Had Fred and George been there, they probably would have teased her- they were always telling her that she was becoming more and more like an old lady by the day, and this was just further proof. She pushed the thought of George from her mind, knowing she'd have to deal with that later. She couldn't let that spoil what Cedric had arranged for her.

Besides, she had always wanted a typewriter. She had seen them in old Hollywood films and always thought they looked lovely. Really, anything that was old and a bit dusty intrigued her, which was why she had always spent any time apart from the twins exploring everything that the castle had to offer.

"You haven't seen the best of it yet," he told her, as she finally released him from her strangle-hold, "It's enchanted, you see,"

Cedric kneeled before the typewriter and inserted some parchment into the top, before he performed a graceful flick of his wand; all the while Grace watched on, mesmerised. Of course she knew that this sort of thing existed- there were all sorts of enchanted items to make your life easier, when you were a wizard or a witch, but Grace rarely thought of those. Being at home with her parents was just like being a muggle, and when she was back at Hogwarts she often forgot what was available to her, opting to do certain things the muggle way. It wasn't that she was incapable- she was as bright as any other student- but more so that the practice of doing certain things was comforting in a way. An enchanted typewriter, however, was something that Grace could get behind.

Furthermore, sometimes Grace thought she would wake up and realise it had all just been a dream- that magic wasn't really, that she wasn't a witch, that all her friends had been figments of her imagination. Because really, it seemed like a fairytale, even down to the horrid parents; Hogwarts simply seemed too good to be true. For the whole of the first year, Grace would have nightmares that she had woken up again on her eleventh birthday, and that she had not received her Hogwarts letter. It was just another day, rather than a turning point in her life. And that had even kept her up at night at times, causing the twins to grill her until she finally divulged what had been troubling her. They simply laughed, and Fred told her that he didn't think her imagination was good enough to imagine someone as great as himself, let alone doing it twice over. That must have been enough for Grace, for the dream had rarely plagued her since, and she had accepted her odd reality as the new normal.

"How does it work?" she asked, curiously, running her hands over the sleek, polished wood.

The old keys of the typewriter seemed to creak slightly, as though it hadn't been used in many years, but quickly sprang to life. They clacked away as small black letters appeared on the parchment.

_How does it work?_

Grace stifled a laugh with her hand, looking over at Cedric, whose eyes were glistening in the dim light.

"There are more settings for it, I'm sure you'll fiddle around with it and work it out over time," he said, again accompanied by the keys bobbing up and down, as though pressed by a phantom hand. It reminded Grace of the haunted organ she had seen in a production of The Phantom of the Opera, and she smiled at the memory. "I thought it would be helpful, you mentioned you'd like to write after Hogwarts and... well, there's no time like the present,"

"I love it," she told him, earnestly, moving over to lean against his shoulder once again.

"And I'm glad. Because I love you," he told her, in a low voice.

The noise of the phantom keys tapping away whilst Frank Sinatra droned on in the background almost disappeared, as she turned to face him and met his lips. He met hers eagerly, as she placed one hand on the blanket to steady herself, and the other cupped the side of his face. Placing his hand on her waist to bring her closer, he deepened the kiss, flicking his wand once more at the typewriter to put it to rest.

It felt as though Grace had been struck by lightning, or perhaps a spell. Her blood seemed electrified as it pumped through her veins twice as fast as usual, her heart thudding in her chest. She was certain he could hear it, as it thundered in her own ears, but if he did, he didn't care. Her hand tangled in his perfect bronze curls, and as she felt him smile against her lips, she was unable to suppress her own smile.

When she pulled back, his eyes fluttered open gently, and he had an almost-drunken grin on his face.

"I love you, too,"

~*~

The two spent the remainder of their night in the Astronomy Tower, talking, laughing, kissing, dancing and drinking. Grace had tested her new typewriter again, with a few lines from a song from her childhood. It had popped into her mind earlier, when the factor of Cedric's permanent warmness had arisen in her mind, and she thought it ought to be the next note that she gave him.

And so, after he coaxed her into singing a few bars, she took the parchment from the typewriter and folded it neatly, before pressing it into his palm. It was rather a jumble of words, since he had activated the charm before explaining exactly what the machine did, and at the very bottom she had added the lyrics.

_You are my sunshine_

_My only sunshine_

_You make me happy when skies are grey_

_You'll never know, dear, how much I love you_

And yet, for some unknown reason, Grace could not bring herself to finish the verse. It seemed too sad a line, as though it didn't fit with the rest. Cedric wouldn't know if she omitted it, of course, for he had no knowledge of muggle music, but she momentarily felt a knot in her stomach.

_Please don't take my sunshine away._

Said knot disappeared quickly- you simply couldn't be sad around Cedric, who reminded Grace uncannily of a golden retriever as he grinned at the lyrics printed on the page. Though the transcript wouldn't make much sense to anyone else, it would always be material proof of that night.

What is more, Grace found that dancing wasn't quite so bad after all. She much preferred it when it wasn't done with the whole school watching her. In fact it could be quite enjoyable, she thought, as she and Cedric swayed gently to the CD.

If she had to take a swing of what heaven might be like, she'd probably picture something quite like this. She was happy, carefree, and spinning dizzily in the arms of someone who adored her so very much. Though the night air was chilly, Cedric's arms kept her warm enough. It might have been the best night of her life, she thought, as she leaned against the railings, looking out over the grounds into the starry night sky. However, it seemed that Cedric's thoughts were elsewhere.

"Penny for them?" she said, watching him gaze out into the unknown.

Cedric was snapped out of his trance and smiled at her, leaning his head on his palm. "Nothing very interesting,"

"Then tell me something very dull," she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

"It's just about my dad and everything- he's sent me a letter about some position at the Ministry," he told her, and she instantly understood. "I've no clue how I'm going to tell him that I don't want a Ministry job at the end of next year, I think he'd kill me,"

Grace frowned at this. "He won't, I'm sure he'll get over it. You're practically the perfect son,"

"I'm not sure he will, Gracie. I'm not sure if it's worth even upsetting him like that, what if my plans don't even work out?" he sighed, rubbing his temple.

Stepping towards him, she placed a gentle hand on his arm, doing her best job of smiling reassuringly at him. "We'll figure it out, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, nodding with resignation. Grace linked her pinkie finger with his, and he looked down at her with a confused smile on his face.

"Pinkie promise," she explained, seeing his confusion. "You _seriously_ don't know anything about muggle culture, do you?" she asked incredulously, though she didn't stop smiling at him as he shook his head.

"Enlighten me,"

"Well, it's not _quite_ an Unbreakable Vow," she told him lightly, and they both chuckled, "but it's about as close as a muggle could get without signing a contract,"

He accepted this, looking back out over the grounds before he turned to her, this time deciding he would ask a question.

"And you?"

"Hm?" she said, not quite following.

"Won't you tell me something very dull, or very interesting, as the case may be?" he grinned, tucking a loose strand of her hair gently behind her ear, his hand lingering there as his thumb gently stroked her cheek.

"I can't think of a single thing," she told him; and it was true. By then, she was utterly distracted by the beauty of the boy who stood before her, and she didn't think her brain could manage to think of much else through the copious amounts of butterbeer that they had drunk.

He hummed, as though racking his brains for something.

"Oh," he said, after some thought, "Is George alright, by the way? He looked quite shaken earlier,"

Her heart sank, and she felt a little sick. She felt ever so slightly guilty about having enjoyed her evening so much with hardly a second thought for poor George, who was probably sitting glumly below them as they spoke. And of course, his pain wouldn't be over in a night- in fact, she wondered if it ever would, though she told herself that this was silly, because of course George would fall in love with someone else... eventually. Even that wasn't a particularly happy thought, as she was sure she knew of no one who was worthy of George.

But obviously Cedric would want to- would have to- know. He was far too caring, too good, despite all the contempt that George had shown him over the past few months. He was genuinely worried about the other boy, though anyone else would probably be glad to see him suffer, after his moods. Yet that only made it worse for Grace- what if Cedric was upset about the situation, knowing that George and Grace had been friends for so long? He surely wouldn't think- no, she thought, he trusted her.

"Well... he will be, eventually," she told him, simultaneously trying to convince herself whilst also contemplating how to word such a delicate subject.

Cedric watched her, though he didn't push the matter any further, understanding that it must have been a personal topic. He was about to change the subject when she spoke again.

"He's... well, he said he's in love with me," she told him, fighting back the tremble in her voice again. She saw his head snap towards her, though she maintained her gaze forward, avoiding his eye contact. It would only make it harder for her.

"He said he has been for a while, that's why he's been so weird around us both,"

Still unsure of what he should say, Cedric swallowed hard. It wasn't exactly a shock to him, having sensed George's jealousy ever since the Quidditch World Cup. He had always known that Grace was very close with the Weasleys and their friends, though particularly close with the twins, and had hoped that George's initial animosity had been due to the Quidditch match last year, and perhaps a sibling-like sense of protectiveness over Grace. But he had known, since that night at the World Cup, that George saw her in a way that was deeper than friendship, or even best friendship. He had seen it in the tenderness with which he had kissed the top of her head, the way his face was lined with worry when he had found her.

And because of this, Cedric had always just assumed that Grace knew. He had thought that perhaps George had confessed, and she had turned him down, and he just couldn't help his feelings lingering. It seemed that this was not the case though, judging by the remnants of shock on Grace's face as she thought back to what had happened earlier that evening.

"Oh, right,"

"I mean, obviously I told him- told him that I love you, that I don't feel the same," she said, before turning to him. "You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he told her, before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Don't worry about me. And try not to worry about him too much, either. George will be fine, though he might need some time to get there,"

A wave of comfort washed over Grace as she heard these words. Cedric always knew just what to say to comfort her. He was perfect in that way.

~*~

After Grace had nearly dozed off, laying her head on Cedric's knee as he played with her hair gently, the couple had packed up their things and left the Astronomy Tower. It was around half past 11, for they were hoping to avoid the swarm of people leaving the Yule Ball. Cedric had elected to walk Grace to her common room, where she had left her present for him, and they strolled carelessly through the corridors, simply enjoying one another's company. When they reached the Ravenclaw common room, which was empty, Grace left him there as she made her away- as quickly as was possible in heels- up to her room.

A minute later she appeared back in the common room with a small gift box, instructing him to close his eyes before she placed it in his hands as he sat on the settee. She perched on the arm of the settee, next to him, and watched over him nervously as he began to open it. Wringing her hands, she could only hope that he would like her choice.

"I know it's not as... grandiose as what you gifted me," she said, looking over at the box which held her new enchanted typewriter, "but I hope that you'll like it anyway,"

She was somewhat ashamed that she couldn't match the scale of his generosity when it came to his gift- it had squeezed her budget enough as it was to get the twins such nice gifts this year, even without having to buy anything for Cho or her parents.

"I love it," Cedric grinned, and she knew from the glint in his light grey eyes that he truly meant it.

He took the dark leather bracelet from the box and handed it to her, holding out his wrist so that she could put it on for him. It had a clasp which she clipped around his wrist on one side, and the opposite side had a sort of silver-toned band, engraved with a raven and filigree on either side of it.

"So you can always see it and think of me," she told him, entwining their fingers once she had secured the bracelet on his wrist.

"I don't think there's a moment when I'm _not_ thinking of you, Grace,"

And with that they found themselves kissing once again, Grace leaning down from the arm of the settee and he wrapped both arms around her waist. However, their kiss was cut unsatisfactorily short when the door to the common room swung open, and Grace quickly pulled back, almost falling off the chair arm backwards. She turned to see who had entered, assuming that the ball must have ended, and saw Cho standing alone in the doorway. She looked speechless, her cheeks stained with streaming mascara, and she hurried up to her dorm without a word to the couple.

Cedric cleared his throat slightly. "I suppose I ought to be getting back to my dorm then," he said, standing up in front of Grace.

"Thank you for a lovely night," she replied, softly and sleepily.

With that, he pulled her into a hug, pressing another quick kiss to her lips before making his way back to his dorm and to bed.

And though Grace had intended on heading to bed, her good nature told her that there was someone she should see before she did. A talk which she could not postpone, else she would likely not sleep that night.


	15. Chapter 15

Though Grace made her way up the steps in the general direction of the sixth year girls’ dormitory with her high heels in her hands, she didn’t make it there. Through the door of the fifth year girls’ dormitory, she could hear a muffled sobbing, as if someone were crying into a pillow. No, not just someone- it had to be Cho, she thought, as no one else that entered the common room since she and Cedric had arrived.

Inwardly, Grace forced her brain into a sort of debate on the topic, as though it were as trivial as an essay.  _ ‘Grace should forgive Cho and comfort her’. To what extent do you agree with this statement?  _

On the side which Grace often tried to repress for the sake of her good nature, there were three main arguments: first of all, Cho had paid no regard to  _ her _ feelings when trying to kiss Cedric; secondly, Cho probably wouldn’t come and comfort Grace, if this situation were reversed; and finally, it would probably be the most awkward and uncomfortable time of Grace’s relatively short-lived life.

But on her more rational, caring side, Grace couldn’t help but acknowledge there were some very good points. She did miss being friends with Cho at times- though the twins were the best friends she could ask for, and Ginny was always happy to see her, she missed her chats and advice from Cho, and how normal it felt to speak to her. More than that, Grace knew that it was the right thing to do; she remembered how Mrs Weasley had sobbed and apologised for having a go at Fred and George before the Quidditch World Cup, after realising something could have happened, and she felt she understood this somewhat.

Could she live with the fact that she’d ignored Cho when she clearly needed someone? Probably not. And ultimately, Grace had nothing better to do. It wasn’t likely she would sleep that night with everything already weighing on her mind- why not lighten the load?

After quickly weighing up this evidence, Grace knew what she must do, and she pushed open the creaking door to the fifth year girls’ dormitory, standing awkwardly in the shadow of the doorway. Cho turned at the sound of the door and tried to hold in her sobbing, which manifested itself in a loud hiccup, as she poked her head through the blue curtains of her four-poster bed.

“Erm.. you alright?” Grace asked cautiously, quietly pushing the door closed behind her.

Another loud hiccup erupted from Cho as Grace stood, taking in the redness of her face and the tears streaking down her cheeks. Somehow she was still very pretty, even in such a state- Grace wasn’t sure how that was possible, but her heart still ached to see her formed friend so sad.

“Yeah, I-” she hiccuped again, retreating back inside the curtains, “-will be,”

“C’mon, what’s up?” Grace said, as she crossed the room and leaned against one of the pillars at the end of Cho’s bed. She was unsure whether she should draw back the curtains, but not sure whether this was too imposing. If Cho wanted to talk to her, she would.

“It’s nothing, really-” Cho’s muffled voice returned, “I’m just- it just-”

And with that, Cho burst into tears again, and Grace decided to take her chance. After putting her shoes down on the floor next to Cho’s, she drew back the curtains and knelt on the edge of the bed.

“Go on, budge up, it’s freezing out there,” she told the younger girl in a comforting voice, and Cho complied, shifting over to make room for Grace. “Either this bed has gotten smaller or we’ve gotten bigger,” Grace joked, trying to sound lighthearted. The pair were still somewhat awkward, not yet having forgotten how they had left things after the party, and the heaviness of this tension hung over their heads.

Cho seemed to laugh a little at this, but combined with the tears and the hiccups, it was not her usual musical laugh. Grace thought back to the years before, when they’d sit up in bed talking for hours, planning their futures or talking about quidditch. Well, the quidditch talk was mostly from Cho, who was obsessed with the Tutshill Tornados- Grace wasn’t a huge quidditch fan but she had listened as her friend raved about them, and even bought her a badge with the team name on for her 14th birthday. 

Those days seemed much simpler. They never fought or argued much, except for when Marietta was involved. It didn’t make sense to Grace that someone as kind as Cho could tolerate Marietta’s behaviour and her snide comments about everyone. To Grace, Marietta was not someone to be trusted. She would use anyone to her own advantage, and use your deepest secrets as her latest gossip. It had been Marietta who had made Grace’s crush on Fred in second year known and, whilst this was by far not her worst offence, Grace had been truly mortified at the time. 

Now, Grace could look back on the situation and laugh. She had written Fred quite an embarrassing Valentine’s Day card, anonymously, and Marietta had known all about it. That had been a grave mistake for, since then, the twins had turned it into a tradition to send Grace increasingly embarrassing and inappropriate Valentine’s Day cards. In fourth year, when Gilderoy Lockhart had put himself in charge of the day’s extravagant celebrations, they had even commissioned the school choir to follow her around all day and serenade her with a particularly awful rendition of “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel on repeat. Introducing Fred and George to muggle music was just another item on her list of regrets, especially because Fred had spent all of last year begging Molly to let him get a drum kit.

But to Cho, Marietta was simply understood. Cho would defend Marietta to her grave, even with all the evidence against her. To this day, Cho didn’t believe that Marietta had spread that secret, though the two younger girls were the only ones who Grace had told. “He must’ve just known it was you,” Cho had said, “And he’s asked you out anyway, what does it matter?”. She hadn’t believed anything bad about her friend, even when she had plainly insulted the Weasleys or Grace. To Cho, Marietta was simply misunderstood, or had been influenced too much by her parents, or was just desperate to be liked. But that did not excuse her behaviour.

And that was Cho’s flaw- to see the best in people and situations, even when the best was not there. She had pleaded with Grace over it many times, telling her that Marietta  _ wasn’t like that _ , begging her to just make an effort. But she was like that, and Grace could only hope in vain that Cho might finally open her eyes.

She tried to push all that from her mind as she looked down at Cho’s dark, silky hair, which was currently acting as a sort of curtain for her face.

Eventually, Cho calmed down and managed to get her words out. Her head was leaning on Grace’s shoulder, who had casted a silencing charm to allow their conversation to go uninterrupted as the other girls in Cho’s year began to trickle into the dormitory. 

“I was dancing with Nicolás,” she began, before looking up at Grace’s dark eyes. “You know who Nicolás is, don’t you?” she asked, quirking her eyebrow.

“ _ Guapisima! _ ” Grace exclaimed in a heavy Spanish accent, before the girls burst into giggles. She did recall Nicolás, the overly-confident boy from Beauxtbatons who had taken quite a liking to Cho at the Hallowe’en feast, and made it unquestionably clear by addressing her as such. He seemed nice enough, if not extremely cocky and self-assured, and was particularly unhappy when Fleur had been chosen as their school’s champion, rather than himself. “‘Course I remember him,”

“Right, well, we were dancing together and he was just going on and on and on about himself, and ‘at  _ my _ school we do this’ and all this rubbish about how  _ subpar _ Hogwarts is,” Cho told her. Grace could practically hear her eyes rolling in her head at his behaviour. “And all I could think was how boring he was!”

“Yeah, he sounds like a real charmer,” Grace laughed, slouching down against the pillows slightly.

“Definitely!” Cho replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So I was just thinking, I wish I’d gone with anyone but him, because it really wasn’t worth the trouble. Which got me thinking how much fun it would’ve been if I’d just gone with my friends- y’know, with you and Marietta I suppose. And Merlin, I realised what a mess I’d made of things with you, and all over  _ Cedric _ ,”

Grace didn’t quite know what to say about this. She thought Cedric was worth at least a wizard duel, though perhaps not with her best friend.

“Yeah,”

“Not that Cedric isn’t really, um, lovely, and everything,” Cho stammered, “It’s just that… well, dancing with that tosser was intolerable, and I couldn’t even come and moan to you about it because I’d ruined everything over a  _ stupid boy _ !” she exclaimed.

“He’s not a stupid boy,” Grace said, lowly.

“No, of course not, I just got a bit carried away,” admitted Cho as she bit her lower lip, calming down a bit again. “Anywho, I just didn’t feel like dancing with him anymore, so I tried to excuse myself and leave. But he was so pushy! He wanted me to go out into the garden with him, so I did, for a little while. And he didn’t even offer me his jacket or anything, even though it’s bloody freezing,”

“Oh, yeah,” Grace agreed, thinking guiltily back to how she’d had Cedric’s dress jacket draped over her shoulders.

“And after all that he had the  _ nerve _ to try and kiss me! Well I’d had enough by then, and I stormed off back to the common room, and that’s it really,”

“Ugh,” Grace groaned, shuddering slightly, “What a creep. I’dve run a mile,”

“I feel like I did,” she told her, “I didn’t stop ‘til I got back to the common room. Which is no mean feat, especially not in heels,”

Grace chuckled at this. “Christ, you need to train me, I could hardly walk in mine, let alone run. I could always borrow one of the twins’ bats though, if you need me to sort out Nicolás,”

“No, no, you looked so elegant out there!” Cho insisted, squeezing her friend’s arm and narrowing her eyes. “Really, you looked lovely,”

“Thanks,” she smiled, leaning her head back. “So did you, when you weren’t scowling at that  _ cabrón _ ,” she added.

It wasn’t too clear whether or not Cho heard this- but Grace assumed that she hadn’t because she said no more, and when she craned her neck to look at the girl leaning her head on her shoulder, Grace saw that her eyes had closed, and her breathing was deep and even. She could hardly leave now, when everyone was already asleep, and when she might waken Cho up.

Besides, Cho didn’t seem to want her to leave; as she stirred in her sleep, she would occasionally grab Grace’s arm tighter or pull it towards herself. Grace thought this was sweet, and there was no way she could bring herself to leave Cho after the state she’d been. So she did her best to slide down slightly in the bed to get herself comfortable, and she found herself staring up into the darkness. Thinking.

Because after the day she had had, there was rather a lot to think about.

Grace sifted through the compartments of her brain, trying to organise the jumbled contents of her mind. This was nothing new to her, for when she couldn’t sleep, she often spent hours contemplating every minor inconvenience in her life, and trying to solve it like a deeply intricate puzzle.

First of all, there was the girl sleeping soundly as a child next to her. Grace was uncertain exactly  _ how _ to feel about that, considering everything that had happened. Of course Cho had apologised, but had Grace forgiven her? On closer inspection, the problem was deeper than Cho drunkenly trying to kiss Cedric; the overarching problem was allowing Marietta to dictate her life and her choices, and her disregard for Grace’s feelings. Whilst it felt nice to be depended upon again by Cho, it didn’t feel quite like it used to. She loved Cho- she always would- but it seemed there had been some irreparable damage to their bond, and no amount of pretending that everything was fine again could restore it to its former glory.

And speaking of glory, there was Cedric. Not that he was an issue, not at all, but certainly a topic of contemplation. It was insane to Grace to try and comprehend why Cedric loved her, of all people. She could never give him all that he gave her, neither materially nor in terms of happiness. Though she loved him with all her heart, she could never reach his level of perfection, and his elaborate and romantic plan for their evening merely consolidated that awful belief. He deserved much better.

Cedric wasn’t the only one who she could not give everything to, of course. There was George. She felt awful for lying to him, or at least from omitting the truth- she had once had feelings for him, feelings deeper than what you would have for a friend. And whilst she no longer felt that way, she couldn’t help but wonder if she should have told him that she once  _ had _ . Was he tearing himself up at that very moment, wondering if he was unlovable? Or was he feeling the fool for thinking she could ever have liked him, when in reality he had just been too late to catch on?

Then there was the issue of her parents-

But that was enough for one night, she thought decidedly. And so she tossed and turned into the small hours of the morning, when she was finally able to fall asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

_Dark had fallen, and Grace found herself alone in the middle of a barren landscape._

_The wind howled and shrieked in her ears as she pushed forward, each step more taxing than the last. She had no clue where she was, or where she was going. But something didn’t feel right. She didn’t feel as though she was meant to be there._

_As far as she could see, she was alone. There were no landmarks around her, nothing identifiable that might have told her where she was. Despite that, she didn’t feel alone. It was as though a pair of invisible eyes were boring into her, calling for her to turn around and_ find them. _But each time she whipped her head to and fro, the land was as barren as the last._

_She was alone._

_Without any indication of which way was the right way, the way to bring her back to civilisation, she walked on. And on. A tugging in her gut told her that she had chosen the right direction, and she ploughed on for what felt like hours, until her mouth was as dry as the earth below her, and her legs ached with the overexertion._

_Then, as if it had appeared from nowhere, she saw a building ahead of her. Its high steeple called her attention, and somewhere inside she knew that that was where she was headed._

_The sight of the church seemed to strike a chord within her, and she remembered an old devotional poem that her grandmother used to read. The words rose in her throat, and without her intending to, they slipped from her lips._

_“Does the road wind up-hill all the way?” she asked, to no one in particular. Her voice was low over the deafening wind, but she knew it sounded hollow and empty._

_She couldn’t remember the next line, though there was no need to. After a few minutes, a high voice seemed to whisper it in her ear._

“Yes, to the very end.”

_Grace practically jumped out of her skin, turning to see who the whispering voice might belong to. But she was still alone._

_And so she tried the next line of the poem._

_“Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?”_

_Again it was quiet, save for the wind which resisted her every step. She was closer to the church now, and could see the headstones lining the overgrown churchyard. It seemed that her hopes were dashed, for the church looked long-abandoned._

_The high voice returned, slightly louder this time. And with a mocking tone, it answered her._

“From morn to night, _my friend,_ ”

_New words rose on Grace’s lips. She wanted to ask who was there, who was speaking to her. But it seemed that the only words that could escape were those of the old devotional. Her memory failed her now, though. Only the last stanza sprang to mind, and desperate to say something, anything, she allowed it to pass through her dry, chapped lips._

_“Shall I find comfort, travel sore and weak?” she asked, as she approached the first of the weather-beaten headstones._

_This time, the voice spoke sooner, and at a normal volume, as though it was fighting to be heard over the racket of the wind, which was now louder than ever._

“Of labour you shall find the sum.”

_Something felt horrible wrong. Grace’s focus had been upon her feet, bare against the long grass of the churchyard. They moved one in front of the other, but they were uncertain. Now, however, she felt compelled to look up, compelled to look around her._

_Before she could tear her gaze from the ground, she asked the penultimate line of the poem._

_“Will there be beds for me and all who seek?”_

_She felt hands on her shoulders, gripping her, sinking into her skin as though they belonged to a clawed animal. She tried to cry out in pain, but she could not. Her lips had been sealed once more. The poem was over for her._

_And then, as the tearing hands pulled her to face the headstones, she saw the graves._

_The names on the graves._

_She ran through the rows, recognising every name._

_Molly Weasley. Arthur Weasley. Charlie Weasley. Hermione Granger. Ginevra Weasley. Percy Weasley. Bill Weasley. Harry Potter. Cho Chang. Holly Armstrong._

_Fred Weasley._

_George Weasley._

_Cedric Diggory._

_She sank to her knees, unable to bare her own weight a second longer. She was truly alone._

_But at the end of the row, there was a freshly dug grave. The headstone there was lighter than the others, not weather-beaten. No weeds grew there. No grass grew there. The soil looked damp, disturbed._

_And as she pulled her unwilling eyes up to the headstone, she saw her own name._

“Yea, beds for all who come.”

_~*~_

Dim morning light crept through the thick old curtains of Cho’s canopy bed, gradually becoming brighter and brighter. When this finally woke Grace up, she came to regret the position in which she had slept. Her neck felt stiff and sore and, after disentangling herself from Cho’s arms, she tried as best as she could to stretch; but to no avail. She still felt rough after the night she had had.

The nightmare had been more than unsettling, and a trickle of sweat ran down her spine as she remembered seeing the headstones, and the names carved into them

But it was only a dream. A horrible, likely butterbeer-fuelled dream.

She squeezed through the opening in the dark blue curtains and picked up her shoes from the night before, padding across the fifth year dormitory and trying her best not to let the door creak on her way out. The same amount of caution had to be exercised when she reached her own dormitory, where the other girls were still asleep. With all that had transpired last night, she hadn’t had a chance to change out of her gown from the Yule Ball, and the beautiful grey tulle was now creased and wrinkled as she reached her hands to her back to unfasten it.

As she stood in the shower, merely letting the water hit her, she ran over the events of last night again. Although her head throbbed from the music and the copious amounts of butterbeer (and spiked punch) that she had drunk, and her throat was raspy from talking and whispering for hours on end, upon reflection the night hadn’t been _too_ bad. Certain parts of it had been amazing- the time she had spent in the Astronomy Tower, specifically, and the time she had spent dancing wildly with the twins- and other parts had been emotionally taxing. But all in all, she didn’t think that she would be forgetting that night any time soon.

After showering and pulling on a considerably oversized jumper and jeans, Grace checked her alarm clock. It was half past nine- she had woken up later than usual, but it was unsurprising that everyone else was still sleeping after the excitement of the night before. She wished she could have slept for longer, for she was still exhausted, but after the trouble she had had trying to fall asleep last night, and the nightmare that had punished her for her efforts, she had given it up as a bad job.

She had considered going to breakfast, but seeing the typewriter sitting on the table in the common room reminded her that Cedric was on Prefect duty that morning, and had likely already been and gone for breakfast by then. And so she picked up her new copy of Emma and made her way to the Gryffindor common room to wait for the twins to wake up.

Grace had gotten no further than the fifth page, knees tucked up on the settee, before she had dozed off with the book still open in her lap. The nightmare had taken a lot out of her; she truly felt that she had walked for miles.

“Morning!” Fred had bellowed cheerfully as he made his way into the Gryffindor common room, George not far behind him. Whilst Fred looked perky as ever, George’s hair was unusually unruly, and his eyes slightly droopy from the lack of sleep he had gotten.

“Sh!” George had said as he got closer, realising from the uncomfortable way in which her head hung forward that she had fallen asleep. “She must’ve been waiting a while, she’s fallen asleep,”

“Guess we should wake her up then,” his twin replied, grinning mischievously as he rummaged in his pockets for his wand.

But George reached his arm out and lowered his twin’s arm, “No, don’t, she looks really tired,”

Fred groaned at this, but reluctantly shoved his wand back in his pocket before flopping down on the opposite end of the settee. It was true, Grace _did_ look tired. Her skin was paler than usual, and her damp hair fell flat, making her look plain and innocent. Dark shadows loomed below her eyes, a stark contrast with the ghostly pallor of the rest of her face.

After twenty minutes of Fred whining that he was _starving to death_ , and other students slowly ambling down for breakfasts, George conceded that they should probably wake her and go down for breakfast.

“Great, let me do it then!” Fred said, suddenly forgetting his hunger in his excitement to test his magic on Grace.

“Nooo,” George had laughed, shoving him away, “I’ll wake her up,”

Grace’s eyes opened and she groaned. “I’m awake, thanks for asking,”

She stretched and interlaced her fingers behind her neck, leaning back against the settee. “I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, I was just so exhausted,”

“Good night, then?” Fred said cheekily, giving her a very dramatic wink.

“Oh, Christ, stop talking,” she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

“C’mon,” George said standing up and offering a hand. She took it and reluctantly pulled herself up from the settee, looking down at Fred who sat there with mockingly pleading eyes.

“I thought you were _starving_ ,” she remarked, raising her eyebrow at him.

“Isn’t anyone going to help _me_ up?” he asked indignantly.

“No,” replied George, and with that he and Grace turned and left the common room, Fred following closely behind.

~*~

“Last night was amazing,” Fred said through a mouthful of toast, before wiping his hands on his trousers. Angelina pulled a face at that, but he paid her no mind. “Well, what I can remember of it of course,” he added, chuckling.

“Yeah,” George agreed. He was sitting next to Fred and opposite Grace, seemingly lacking his usual appetite- or at least in comparison with the piles of food that Fred and Ron were shovelling onto their plates. “I hardly remember anything, to be honest. Must’ve been the punch,”

Grace met his eyes as he said this, and though he smiled at her, she saw a trace of the pain that had been in his eyes the night before, and felt as though a knife had twisted in her gut. She cleared her throat and they broke eye contact, Grace now looking over at Fred.

“How on Earth are you so chirpy this morning, Fred?” she asked accusingly, aware of the pounding in her own head. “You drank more than me, surely?”

At that, Fred simply grinned and tapped his nose. “That’s for me to know and you to-”

“Pepperup potion,” Angelina said, cutting him off as she reached over to pour herself some pumpkin juice.

“Godric, can’t I be a man of mystery for once?”

“There can’t be any mystery about you, you never shut up,” Ron told him with a withering look. Despite herself, Grace laughed.

“Yeah, and she would’ve worked it out without being told, anyway,” George added, though he was still watching the toast on his plate intently, not meeting her eyes.

“True,” his twin admitted. “Well, young Gracie-”

“I’m two months older than you-”

“A month and spare change, but that’s not the point here. I’m divulging my deepest secrets here, do you want to hear them or not?” he asked in a voice that sounded eerily like Molly’s.

She sighed and nodded- though she was sure it wasn’t his deepest secret, she supposed that he didn’t really have many secrets. And besides, she was intrigued.

“Pepperup potion isn’t only useful for the common cold, you know,” he told her, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice, “It’s probably the most effective cure for a hangover,”

Grace let out a low whistle. “You should market it to muggles, you’d put greasy spoon cafés out of business,”

“I have no clue what that is, but I’ll allow it. I could put anywhere out of business, I’ll have you know that I’m a retail genius,”

After that, Grace didn’t pay much attention to the conversation, which mostly consisted of loud retellings of everything that had happened last night. Well, _almost_ everything. The lingering fear of her nightmare had been replaced by the discomfort of dealing with the situation with George.

She excused herself from the table and made her way outside in the hopes that the crisp morning air might rejuvenate her somewhat. As if by habit, she found herself wandering over to the bench wear she so often sat with Cedric. It was weird sitting there alone, rather than with Cedric’s arm around her.

Her new copy of Emma was all that accompanied her, set down on the bench at her side. But she didn’t quite feel like reading it, and her fingers were probably too numbed by the cold to turn the pages anyway. With only her thoughts to entertain her, she puffed out her breath like smoke, watching the swirling patterns as they filled the space before her.

“I thought I might find you here,” a voice said, breaking her out of her reverie.

She turned to see George, a tattered winter jacket slung over his arm. He held it out to her and she pulled it on gratefully- her hair was still damp, and the cold made it particularly uncomfortable.

“For a Ravenclaw, you never learn, do you?” he teased, picking up the hardback book from the bench and sitting down next to her, holding the book in his lap.

She shoved his arm half-heartedly. “I’ve bigger fish to fry,”

“Oh, really?” he said, finally looking her in the eyes.

“Yeah, I mean, nothing as painful or rom-com-esque as being in love with my best friend,”

“Oi, shut it,” he laughed, shoving her back.

They sat in silence then, neither of them knowing quite what to say. They stared forward, blowing their breath out to see who could make the most impressive cloud.

“It’s not going to change anything, is it?” she asked him finally, in a small voice.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Of course it won’t. I wouldn’t have told you if I thought it would. Wouldn’t risk what we have, knowing you love Ced anyway,”

“I suppose,” she agreed, and as he sat back she leaned her head on his shoulder.

The silence returned.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she admitted. “But isn’t it selfish of me to keep you around, when it’s hurting you?”

He nudged her gently with his elbow. “You’re not getting shut of me that easily, Wynfield. If I didn’t want to stick around, I wouldn’t. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I’m going to let the fact that you threw my heart on the floor and stamped on it aggressively stop that,”

“No, don’t say that,” she groaned, but they were both laughing. Things were good again, like old times.

“Right, up you get,” he said eventually, standing up. “You’re shaking the whole bench with your shivers, and I can’t deal with mourning my best friend on top of the rejection,”

And after a few playful shoves into the walls of the castle, the two joined their friends in the Gryffindor common room. No more was said of George’s confession, and not a single word was said of her nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to @roserenner for leaving a lovely comment on my fic :') still smiling from that.
> 
> The poem quoted in this chapter was "Uphill" by Christina Rossetti.


	17. Chapter 17

“What do you think it means?” asked Cedric, sitting cross-legged at the marble edge of the Prefects’ bath. Christmas had come and gone, but they were in the in-between days of late December, and classes had not yet resumed. Despite telling her it was unimportant, Grace had badgered Cedric about hearing the clue in the egg for long enough since he had discovered how to hear it, and he had finally caved in and let her hear it.

She was laid flat out on her stomach at the edge of the bath, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up, and her wavy, wet hair hanging limply at her shoulders. “I think I’ll need another listen,” she admitted reluctantly, as her hair faintly dripped on the marble. Wasn’t she a Ravenclaw? A riddle should be easy enough for her, but she felt lost.

Heaving a sigh, Cedric leaned back on his arms, “Grace, you shouldn’t waste the whole day on it, I’m sure it’ll come to us,”

But Grace was determined to figure out the riddle, even if they did have to sit there all day. She turned the golden egg in her hands slowly, inspecting it for any indication of what the song might mean.

“How did you even figure out that it sings underwater, Ced?” she asked suddenly, looking at him with puzzlement and slight concern. The thought would never have occurred to her that the egg could sing- she thought that the horrid screeching that she had heard when the egg was open was a warning _against_ opening it, not a call to take it for a bath.

“Honestly, you don’t want to know,” he answered, and they both burst into laughter at the thought. It was probably better not to ask, she decided.

Brows knitted, Grace took a deep breath before plunging her head into the bath again, holding the egg under the water in both hands.

_“Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you’re searching ponder this:_

_We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you’ll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took,_

_But past an hour — the prospect’s black,_

_Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.”_

Spluttering, Grace’s upper half emerged from the water again, her drenched hair spraying water all over Cedric as he leaned forward. She had accidentally taken a sharp intake of breath under the water, and now she was paying the price in coughing up her lungs.

“It _sings underwater!”_ she spluttered.

“Are you alright?” Cedric asked her, reaching forward to take her in his arms and pat her back. She nodded thoroughly. They had already well established that the egg could sing underwater, and he was beginning to wonder if she was just going a bit mad.

“Who’dve known I couldn’t breathe underwater, eh?” she croaked with a slight chuckle, but this sent her into another coughing fit.

After a minute or so she had recovered, and she laid her head in Cedric’s lap, looking up at him with her soft brown eyes. “I think I’ve solved it,” she told him, with a slight air of uncertainty/

“I’d expect no less from the smartest person I know,” Cedric grinned, “Go on, explain,”

She blushed and waved away his compliment. “Right, so. _We cannot sing above the ground_ \- it doesn’t mean the egg,” she told him, fidgeting with her damp hair. “At first the singing made me think of Sirens, but we know that they _can_ sing above the ground,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But that and the fact that you have to listen to the egg underwater give a good indication that you’ll be underwater in the task. Maybe in the Black Lake,” she told him, and shuddered thinking of how cold it must be, especially at this time of year.

“Merlin, good job I can swim then,” Cedric said with a grin, running his fingers through her curls.

“You might be able to swim but, unless there’s something you haven’t told me, you can’t breathe underwater for an hour,” she teased, causing him to look rather sheepish.

“Oh, yeah, that didn’t occur to me,”

“Yep, well luckily we have these magic sticks called wands and an extensive library, so I’m sure we can sort that out. Next,” she said, before pausing to run through the next few lines under her breath.

“I guess the next part’s pretty self-explanatory. You’ll have to search underwater for something they’ve taken from you… maybe your broom or something?” she suggested.

“Could be- but my broom is still safely in my room,”

“They’ll probably take it the day of the task, it’s not like they can just take your belongings for a month,” she stated blankly. “Then again, this whole tournament is, like, a _huge_ violation of health and safety legislation. So I wouldn’t put it past them,”

Cedric looked as though he had never heard of health and safety before- unsurprising, since the wizarding world was practically still in the 19th century. Really, it was quite ridiculous. Just because you _can_ regrow bones doesn’t mean that you should _have_ to.

“And then the last bit- if you don’t find it within the hour, you won’t get it back,”

“I’m sure the giant squid would love a new broom,” Cedric quipped, chuckling at his own joke.

“Well, I’d rather the squid keep the broom than keep _you_ ,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him..

“Not a chance, my highly intelligent girlfriend has just solved the whole task for me,” he replied, standing up and crossing the room to pick up a towel before handing it to her. She wrung out her hair and ruffled it with the towel, leaving it falling somewhat messily just past her shoulders.

“I’ve only figured out what the task is, we still need to figure out how you can breathe underwater, and then you’ve got to pull the whole thing off, and in the time limit-” she rambled, clearly running through every single thing that could go wrong in her mind as though it were some morbid checklist.

“And I _will_ , because I’ll have you cheering for me in the stands,” he said softly, cupping her cheek with his hand. She leaned into this, glad for the warmth in his touch.

“You think it’ll be alright?” she asked, looking uncertain.

“Of course,” he assured her, before leaning down to brush his lips against hers. “Now let’s get out of here before anyone catches us,” he told her, taking her hand gently in his.

But they were not quite so lucky- in fact, Grace thought that the only way it could have been worse was if it were a teacher who had seen them. For as soon as they exited the bathroom, they came across a certain Weasley, who looked rather alarmed to see the couple exiting the Prefects’ bathroom together.

“Oh my God, it’s not-” Grace began, freezing in horror at Ron’s red-faced embarrassment. She grabbed the golden egg from under Cedric’s arm and held it out in front of her. “We were listening to the egg!” she exclaimed, scrambling to explain herself. She knew that Cedric had advised Harry on taking the egg to the Prefects’ bathroom, and she could only hope that he had told Ron about it.

But by the gormless look on Ron’s face he didn’t know anything about the egg singing underwater, and was only more concerned by Grace’s ridiculous excuse.

“It- it sings,” she said in a quiet voice, smiling awkwardly at Ron as she lowered the egg.

“Uh, right,” he said, avoiding eye contact with her before he excused himself to go and find Harry and Hermione.

“Blimey,” he uttered under his breath as he walked away. It was one thing to be caught by your best friends’ younger brother, but it was another to pretend you were listening to a singing egg.

~*~

“Grace?” called a voice from the Ravenclaw common room. Grace was pulling a jumper over her head as she hurried down the steps from her dormitory, running slightly late. “Wynfield?! I think your friends are trying to blow up the door!”

“I wouldn’t expect any less of them,” she muttered to herself as she made her way into the common room, hastily pulling her hair back into a ponytail.

“Sorry, Anthony,” she said to the younger boy, patting him on the shoulder with an apologetic smile as she passed him. “Gryffindors, eh?”

Luna’s airy voice came from one of the high windows where she was perched, just observing the situation. “It’s a very effective security system, they’ve been trying for a while now,”

Grace pulled open the tall wooden doors of the common room and immediately ducked as Fred, his arm outstretched, fired a spell over her head, searing a hole in one of the blue and bronze silks that hung from the walls.

“What the f-”

“Sorry!” he said cheerily, not sounding particularly sorry. “We’ve been waiting for you long enough, Gracie,”

Fred poked his head through the door and looked around. “Never been in here before,” he said curiously, before spotting Anthony and making quite a rude gesture at him before Grace shoved him back out.

“That doesn’t mean you should blow up the door- or me!” she exclaimed, pulling the door closed behind her.

“Is _that_ what he told you, the boffin?” Fred asked, rolling his eyes. “We weren’t trying to _blow it up_ , per se,”

“Yeah, we were just trying to get it open!” George chimed in, though he had been standing further back from the door.

The trio started down the tight spiral stairs, down from the Ravenclaw tower, with Grace leading them, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Fancies himself a Prefect, that Anthony,” Fred continued. He sounded slightly disgusted, probably owing to the amount of times that he and George had been disciplined by one- especially his older brother, Percy.

“Aw don’t be mean,” Grace chided, “He’s nice enough really, and he’d make a good Prefect, too,”

“Yeah because he’s a whiny little-” a stern look from Grace stopped Fred in his tracks. “Well, I’m only saying that if he’d just let us in we wouldn’t have had to try and blow up-”

“Not that we _were_ blowing up-” George cut in.

“The door to your common room,” Fred finished. “I mean, he knows who we are, he could’ve just let us in,”

“That’s precisely _why_ he didn’t let you in,” laughed Grace, rolling her eyes at Fred’s flawed logic. “I thought you were waiting for me in the entrance anyway,”

“We _were_ ,” George told her as they neared the Entrance Hall, “but you know that Fred is very impatient,”

“Erm, excuse me,” Fred said, taking on the high tone that he used when they bickered, “I’m not impatient, I just have a very good sense of timekeeping since I was gifted this lovely pocket watch,” he said, flashing a grin at Grace as he swung the beautiful gold watch, which she had bought him for Christmas, around his finger on the chain. “Anyways, we had to make sure you weren’t worming your way out of our _quality time_ together,”

Grace snorted, before putting on a mockingly offended tone as she clutched her heart. “Why on Earth would I avoid my two dearest friends?”

“Now, now,” George tutted, throwing his arm around her shoulder, “We’re not accusing you of that, but we just have to make sure, you see. Since you snuck out with the Hufflepuff for most of the Yule Ball-”

“Doing Godric knows what!” Fred gasped, pretending to be scandalised, “You’re just lucky that mum doesn’t know!”

“ _And_ you’re dodging us at Easter,” George went on, doing his best to mask the genuine disappointment in his voice.

“Aw, guys,” Grace moaned, feeling slightly guilty. She hadn’t thought twice about accepting Cedric’s invitation to spend the Easter holidays with him and his parents, but it had since crossed her mind that the twins might think she was choosing sides. “Maybe I just wanted to give you a break from me, since I’ll be spending all summer at the Burrow,” she suggested.

They all laughed at this, knowing it was ridiculous. Fred ruffled her hair as they approached the doors of the castle. “C’mon, if anyone needs a break, it’s you from us,”

~*~

After a long day of window-shopping and trying to prevent the twins from causing too much chaos in Hogsmeade, Grace’s suggestion that they go for a drink in The Three Broomsticks was met with unanimous agreement. A blast of heat met them upon entrance, and Grace’s face turned especially rosy from it, especially after hours in the nipping mid-January air.

Just as the three had bustled past the crowd near the door, Fred’s eyes seemed to be fixed on something at the far end of the bar. He put his arm around George’s shoulder and whispered something to him, subtly nodding in the direction of whatever he had seen.

Grace caught sight of this and tried to follow their line of vision, but the hordes of students milling around made it hard for her to fix her eyes on whatever it was that they had seen. “Oh God,” she sighed, “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing!” George said, sounding particularly guilty as Fred patted him on the back. “Uh- you get the drinks and find us a table, we’ll be over in a few,” he told her, before grabbing her shoulders and ushering her towards the bar.

Reluctantly she watched as they crossed the room, still conversing animatedly and, to her surprise, seriously about something. She groaned inwardly at this, and made her way over to the bar to order three butterbeers. As she was waiting for Madame Rosmerta to pull the pints, she heard a jovial voice behind her.

“Gracie!” it called, and the next think she knew a tall, dreadlocked boy had pushed his way over to her.

“Alright, Lee?” she asked, offering him a smile. She got on with Lee well- how couldn’t she, when he was practically the third Weasley twin?

“Never better,” he grinned, “And I hear you’re not doing so bad yourself- you’re seeing Diggory aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Grace answered shortly, flushing even redder at the reminder. Whilst it wasn’t exactly a secret, she still felt shy speaking about it, especially with all the added attention of Cedric being the Hogwarts champion in the tournament.

“I’m happy for you,” he told her earnestly, picking up the drinks that Madame Rosmerta had placed on the bar, before tunnelling his way through the crowd to find a table for them.

“Thanks,” Grace said, both for what he had said and carrying the drinks.

“Although,” Lee smirked, “why you went for a _Hufflepuff_ when there are three very attractive Gryffindors in the year is beyond me,”

“Oh shove off,” she laughed, nudging him with her elbow and almost causing him to spill the drinks. “Oops, sorry,”

“You will be sorry,” he told her, nudging her back slightly harder, though still being careful not to spill the drinks.

They were still in light conversation when the twins made their way over to the table with faces like thunder. Grace could have kicked herself- she’d let Lee distract her from figuring out what was going on with the twins. Lee, who had only been keeping her company, excused himself to go and sit with Angelina and Katie, and the twins slid into their seats opposite Grace.

“What’s up?” she said curiously, raising an eyebrow at the pair. They exchanged a quick glance before both nodding and turning back to her.

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

If there was anything that Grace hated about the twins, it was _that_ ; they seemed to be able to communicate telepathically with each other, and though Grace had spent the last six years of her life with them, she had not yet learnt to intercept some of these knowing glances. Of course, she often was a part of these shared looks- when one of their pranks was taking place, and they silently acknowledged it to one another, or when a teacher was talking utter drivel. But when Fred and George wanted to keep something from her, they were more than capable of doing so.

“Oh, come on, you said no secrets!” she complained, looking at them with pleading eyes.

“It’s really better you don’t know, Grace,” George told her solemnly. “Argh!” he exclaimed then, as a result of the thump that Fred had just given him. He looked at him with an irritated expression, “I didn’t say _what-_ ”

“See, there is something!” Grace pressed, eager to follow up on the little crack in George’s resolve. “ _Please_ just tell me, Georgie,” she pleaded, leaning forward on the table so that he couldn’t avoid her eye contact.

“Oi,” Fred said, flicking the condensation from his butterbeer at her as though she were a feral cat in his back garden, “Don’t pick on the weaker one!”

“I’m not the weaker one!” George exclaimed, affronted by this accusation. Though it was true- if either of them would crack and tell Grace, it would be George. He had been in a spot of bother with Fred before over this, especially when he’d told her about her supposed-to-be surprise party in second year.

But luckily for the twins, they did not have to answer her; the pub rang out with Harry’s raised voice.

“Trying to ruin someone else’s life?” he asked loudly, causing the pub to quiet slightly as people turned to watch him and Hermione berate Rita Skeeter.

Grace let out a slow whistle as Harry, Hermione, and Ron made their way out of the pub. “She deserved that, the horrible old witch,” Grace muttered.

“Grace, _you’re_ a witch,” Fred reminded her, smirking.

“Oh, yeah,” she laughed, biting her lip, looking around the pub to see where Skeeter had scurried over to now. “Errr… the horrible bint?” she suggested.

“Works for me,” George agreed, taking a long drink of his butterbeer.

Just then, Grace’s eyes locked with a pair of familiar grey ones across the room. Cedric was there, surrounded by his friends, who were all laughing and chatting excitedly. He winked at her with a crooked grin and they both blushed a little, before Grace’s attention was brought back to her table as she remembered what they had been discussing before Harry’s outburst.

“Oi, what’s going on?” she asked the twins, trying to be more assertive this time.

“Well,” Fred told her with mock concern, “It’s Saturday afternoon and _we_ , your very smart and very sexy handsome friends, are currently in The Three Broomsticks drinking butterbeer,”

George choked on his butterbeer slightly at this, and Grace fought back a smile. She had to keep a serious face or she’d never get anything out of them.

“I’m telling you,” Fred said to George in a stage-whisper, as though he were doing an aside, “I know she’s always banging on about how she’s older and more mature than us, but I didn’t realise she was already going _senile_ ,”

The three burst out laughing at this, though Grace pouted slightly. “You know what I mean, Fred Gideon Weasley,” she said, giving him a pointed look, “What were you both doing before you got to the table?”

“Blowing up your common room door-”

“Wrong answer!” Fred exclaimed, playfully cuffing his brother round the ear, “We weren’t doing anything, we’ve been here all along,”

“Come on!” Grace pleaded.

“Nothing is going on,” Fred said in a deep, soothing voice, pulling his pocket watch out and swinging it in front of her face like a pendulum, pretending to hypnotise her.

She made a grab for the locket but Fred pulled it out of reach just in time.

“You’re really not going to tell your _best friend_ and chief prank-planner,” she said, exaggerating a frown at them.

Fred rubbed his chin, as though in deep thought, before looking at his brother for a moment. “Nope!” he told her, and it was clear then that he hadn’t considered it at all.

Well, she thought, it was worth a try. But she’d find out eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos lately guys! I hope you're enjoying the story and keeping safe <3


	18. Chapter 18

“I’m expecting big things from you this year, Wynfield,” Fred told Grace as she slid into the bench opposite him and George. It was the morning of the 14th of February and, as was tradition, they had written each other stupid Valentines’ cards.

It had all started in their second year; Grace had had the most enormous crush on Fred (or at least the most enormous crush that an almost-thirteen year old could muster). But of course she lacked none of the confidence of her best-friend-turned-crush, and so had used the holiday to send him an anonymous confession of her undying… fancy. 

“Do you think this is too weird?” she asked Cho nervously, skimming over the note for the millionth time in the Ravenclaw common room. 

“Of course not!” Cho has squeaked- it was all too exciting to her to have an older friend like Grace, who talked about romantic films and wrote love letters to boys as though she were a protagonist.

Of course the letter  _ was _ quite weird, and also quite embarrassing. But, to an “I’m-almost-a-teenager”, a note about a boy making you blush as red as his hair was poetic enough, and even more so when it was signed off anonymously. 

“And you don’t think that the muggle sweets are too much of a giveaway?” asked Grace later that day in the owlery, fiddling with the packet of Swizzels’ Love Heart sweets that she had saved from her last trip to the corner shop over summer.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, would you hurry up?” huffed Marietta, who stood crossed-armed in the doorway of the owlery, making sure that no one saw them dropping off the note.

With a deep breath, Gracie sealed the envelope, and the three girls made their way back to Ravenclaw Tower for the evening, eagerly awaiting what would come the following morning.

However, Grace and Cho were wrong to be excited about it, for it was something of a disaster. The only one of the trio who was happy about the outcome was Marietta, and that was quite sadistic of her.

Fred had burst out laughing upon opening the note, as the girls sat across from them, observing his every move closely. He had shown it to George, Lee, and just about everyone else at the Gryffindor, desperate to find out who had been pulling his leg. Because of course it couldn’t be serious- it was laughably bad, as Grace recognised the following year, at the older and  _ much wiser _ age of nearly-fourteen. Or at least she liked to think so.

Thankfully for her, Fred had enjoyed the muggle sweets, and he never suspected it was Grace who had sent the letter. By time Marietta’s gossip had spread throughout the year group, some of the excitement had died down. And to Grace’s surprise, Fred quite fancied her too, and they enjoyed a blissful 2 weeks of “going out” (which, at twelve years old, barely consisted of holding hands) before realising that they were simply best friends. George in particular was very thankful for this, because those two weeks had been possibly the most awkward of his life. 

In the present day, however, all parties involved could look back and laugh at the situation. And they did, annually, with their tradition of trying to write the most ridiculous love letters. Over the years, these had varied from serenades from the Hogwarts choir, to being scrolls of innuendo-ridden parchment longer than the twins’ homework efforts combined.

“I think you’ve exhausted my artistic abilities, lads,” Grace told them with a sigh- they had always been the more creative ones, especially when it came to ridiculous mock-romantic verse.

“We shall see,” George told her with a grin as a storm of owls soared overhead, both elating and disappointing the expectant students sat at the tables below.

Two letters were dropped onto the table (one of which landed in Fred’s pancakes and became rather sticky), and they eagerly tore them open.

“Oh, no, you were right, Gracie,” said George, leaning across Fred to read the letter she had written.

“Yeah,” agreed Fred, licking the syrup from his fingers as he read the letter, “This is a pathetic attempt:  _ ‘I hope you’re not a Legillimens, because I can’t stop thinking about you- E Norma Sego’ _ ? You’ve besmirched the name of our great tradition,"

Grace rolled her eyes very dramatically. “Okay, it’s not  _ that _ bad, I did try. You guys are the comedic geniuses,” she said, smirking as she read the letter they had written, heavily laced with innuendos and ridiculously flowery imagery, “And since when did you know such  _ big words _ ?”

“What do you mean?” said Fred, mockingly offended, “I came out of the womb using words abstemiously,”

“That- okay, you definitely don’t know what that means because that doesn’t even make sense, and if that  _ were _ true then I wouldn’t have to do all your homework for you-”

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that she called us geniuses?” interrupted George with a grin.

“ _ Comedic _ geniuses, before you get ahead of yourself,” she corrected, though she was grinning too.

“Well it  _ would’ve _ been funnier if George had agreed to enchant all the portraits to sing ‘Take a Chance On Me’ by that muggle band- what are they called again? Anna?” Fred said, furrowing his brows thoughtfully.

George gave his twin a shove that almost sent him off the edge of the bench, “They’re called ABBA, and like I said, that was a shit idea-” he said, going quite red.

Deep down, George agreed that it was rather a good idea; but after all that had transpired between him and Grace, he knew that it would be the wrong thing to do. Though ordinarily she would’ve loved the idea and spent all day laughing at it whilst she pretended to hate it, this year had been very different from the ordinary. Not only did she have a proper boyfriend, George had also confessed his love to her. Because of this, he had decided to err on the side of caution when it came to their usual flirtatious banter- he didn’t want to put her in an awkward situation, or for her to think that he didn’t respect her answer. 

It seemed as though Grace had caught on to his line of thinking, because she quickly shifted the topic of conversation away from the idea.

“Didn’t you mention something yesterday about a new product?” she asked Fred eagerly, only faking interest somewhat. 

“Hm?” He settled himself back onto the bench with a cold side eye at George, “Oh yeah, the Hate Sweets,”

“Not a very catchy name though, is it?” Grace laughed, sipping her tea, “It just sounds like you hate sweets,”

“It’s under review,” George assured her.

“But the concept is the title, it’s simple, it’s snappy, it-“

“Sounds ridiculous,” Grace told him honestly, “I thought you were skilled businessmen,”

“We’re  _ getting there _ ,” Fred assured her, rolling his eyes at her disbelief, “Now do you want to hear our stellar idea or not?”

“Blow me away, boys,”

The concept was very simple, really; Fred had been thinking about the Love Heart sweets that Grace had given him in second year, in particular the silly little messages on them. But the twins, being themselves, thought the sweets would be much better with insults on them instead- and even better if they could be enchanted to change insults depending on who took one.

“See, you offer them to your friends-“ George began.

“Or your enemies, because you probably wouldn’t have friends after they’ve read half the stuff we’ve come up with-” Fred interjected, with a grin.

“And they get their own customised insults! It’s hilarious and ego-deflating,” George finished.

“Maybe you two could do with some,” she joked, and Fred batted her on the head with the newspaper he pulled from the hands of the second year next to him.

“And maybe  _ you _ should be more supportive,” he chided, “because you know it’s a brilliant idea,”

“Oh, come off it,” she scoffed, “You know that I love and support you more than everyone. The idea is good enough, if you can pull it off-“

“Which is where you come in!” Fred grinned, knowing that she would have a better idea of the charms they’d need.”

“ _ But, _ ” she continued, holding up her hand, “you need to work on the name,”

“Fine,” the twins agreed in unison.

At that moment, a large, grey owl swooped overhead, significantly later than the others. It landed on the table in front of Grace, who took a moment to recognise it as Cedric’s owl, Hermes. She leaned forward to untie the note which he had brought her, asking her to meet Cedric in his common room when she had finished her breakfast.

“Good stuff,” she told the twins, unable to keep a broad smile from her face as she pulled her bulging satchel over her shoulder, “I’ll catch up with you later, got to go and meet Ced,” she said, leaving the boys alone at the table, with George looking particularly crestfallen at her sudden departure.

~*~

After leaving the Great Hall, Grace made her way to the Hufflepuff common room, where she had arranged to meet Cedric. Through the frost on the windows she saw that it was snowing lightly outside- not an unusual sight for mid-February, but one which made her smile nonetheless. She hoped it would stick because, as beautiful as the castle was, it was somehow even prettier with a blanket of snow over it.

Neville must have been thinking the same thing, she thought in a passing manner. He was leaning his head glumly on his hand, his elbow resting on one of the stone window ledges quite far down the corridor, watching the snow flutter down outside.

But as Grace got closer, she realised that he looked rather pale, and rather than watching the snow, he seemed to be looking blindly at the fogged-up window. She checked her watch quickly; she had plenty of time, so a little chat with the boy wouldn’t hurt.

Besides, something in the back of her mind told her that she couldn’t just leave him there. Though they weren’t particularly good friends, she had spoken to him on several occasions whilst in the Gryffindor common room with the twins, and even helped him with homework on the odd occasion, and she liked him well enough. In a way, his bumbling and absent-minded nature reminded her somewhat of her grandfather, and she felt a strange urge to care for him.

She approached carefully, as though he were an injured animal that she wanted to help but was afraid of scaring away. Then she cleared her throat, to let him know she was there.

“Alright, Neville?” she asked in a kind voice. His listless daydream was cut short, and he seemed surprised to see Grace standing a few feet away from him, leaning against the wall.

“Oh, hello,” he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It seemed strange to see him like this- Neville was unusually gloomy considering the fact that it was a Saturday and Snape was nowhere to be seen.

“Everything okay?” Grace asked, furrowing her brow slightly.

“Oh- yeah! Of course, everything is thanks, fine- uh, I mean-” 

It was clear that Neville’s mind was elsewhere, and more so than usual. Grace even wondered if he had been confunded, but she didn’t think that anyone would have bothered with that considering Neville was notoriously forgetful.

“Are you sure? You don’t need me to take you to Madam Pomfrey or anything, do you?” she checked, looking his pale face over to check that he was truly okay. His eyes seemed misty, as though he might cry, and she suddenly felt a pang of guilt for grilling him like this, when he probably just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.

“No, no,” he assured her, seeming to come to his senses a little bit now. “Don’t worry about it,” 

“Okay, well, I’ll see you later,” she smiled, patting him lightly on the shoulder before passing him and heading in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room. 

But before she had gotten too far, she stopped.

“Erm, Nev?” she called, turning on her heel. Neville was still stood gazing out the window, though he seemed to be wiping the corner of his eye with his jumper until he quickly straightened up and turned towards her.

“Yeah?”

“I got this plant in Hogsmeade a few weeks back and I’m bloody useless with the things,” she grinned, rubbing her neck slightly, “Do you think you could have a look at it with me sometime? I just need a few pointers, that’s all,”

Seeing Neville’s face light up upon her request made Grace feel much better about the white lie she had just told. She  _ did _ have a new plant, but she wasn’t too bad at herbology and could probably manage it herself. She knew, however, that Neville loved herbology- and if he felt like his expertise was needed by someone else, a Ravenclaw student two years above him nonetheless, he might feel a little more confident in his abilities.

“Of course!” he beamed, perking up, “You could bring it to the common room next time you’re there,”

“Brilliant, thank you so much, Neville. You’re a life-saver,” she told him, before returning to her route to the Hufflepuff common room.

~*~

“Hey,” Grace sighed happily as she wrapped her arms around Cedric’s neck, pulling him in for a hug to which he responded warmly, “Happy Valentines’ Day,”

It was her first time in the Hufflepuff common room, and she couldn’t help but look around in fascination, taking in the almost-glowing room. The sunshine-yellow of the upholstery looked even brighter in contrast with the black which accompanied it, reminding her of bumble bees. And speaking of which, she could have sworn she saw a few hovering around the countless plants which decorated the homely room.

“And to you,” he beamed, stroking her hair softly.

“Sorry I took so long,” she said, pulling back slightly to look up at him, “I just caught Neville in the corridor and he looked quite upset, I felt a bit bad leaving him,”

Cedric frowned at this- not because she had taken slightly longer than expected, but because he felt bad for Neville. Though they were not particularly well acquainted, Professor Sprout always mentioned what a promising student the boy was. “Is he alright now?”

Knowing just what was going through his mind, Grace smiled; she had never met someone as caring as Cedric before. The way he regarded others before himself was nothing short of admirable. Though people often made fun of Hufflepuffs, Grace thought that their most valued qualities were simply precious; and these manifested themselves in no one more prominently than in Cedric Diggory, who was practically the poster-boy for them at this point.

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry,” 

“Right then,” he said, and his perfect smile returned as his eyes crinkled, “I’ve left my present for you in my dorm. You can come up if you’d like, I think everyone is out at the moment,"

“Sure,” she agreed, entwining their fingers as he began to lead her away.

A throat cleared behind them, and they turned to see a girl with her legs hanging over a chair arm. She was stunningly pretty, a girl of around their age with flawless honey-toned skin, and long, dark hair, and she was looking straight at Cedric with an arched eyebrow.

For a moment Grace thought that the girl was going to chide Cedric for bringing a Ravenclaw into the common room, but the knowing grin on Cedric’s face said otherwise.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” the girl asked in a warm but pointed tone, swinging her legs round and getting to her feet. 

“Radhika, we-”

“Please!” she pleaded, rushing over to them before Cedric could escape, “I’ve heard all about her, I want to meet her,”

Cedric looked extremely uncomfortable as he flushed beet-red; she had obviously said exactly what he was dreading, but the girl looked just as excited as before.

He sighed, giving in, though he was clearly fighting back a smile. “Fine, Gracie, this is Radhika Holdsworth, one of our Beaters. She’s in fifth year,”

“That’s how you introduce me?” she cried, looking incredulously at Cedric, before turning to Grace with a toothy smile, “I’m Radhika, A.K.A Cedric’s wingwoman and source of Frank Sinatra CDs,”

Grace laughed at this, though Cedric still looked very bashful, and she shook Radhika’s hand which she had eagerly thrust towards her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she told her.

“Oh, please!” she said, still gripping her hand tightly in her excitement, “The pleasure is all mine. I’ve been begging Cedric to let me meet you for the longest time. You’re all he talks about, you know, and by the sound of it we’ve got a lot in common, Grace, but he seems to think that-”

“That you’ll scare her away,” Cedric cut in, as though his point was proven as she began to chatter away rapidly.

“It’ll take a lot more than introducing me to your lovely friend to scare me off, Ced,” she reassured him with a chuckle. Radhika reminded her of an overexcited puppy meeting new people for the first time, and she could tell that they would be fast friends.

“Right, well, just a reminder that you’re  _ my _ Valentine, not hers,” he teased, seeing that the girls had already seemingly formed an alliance against him.

With a pout, Radhika finally dropped the older girl’s hand. “What a spoilsport,” she groaned, narrowing her eyes at Cedric. “I hope I’ll see you again soon, Gracie,” she added eagerly, turning to smile at Grace, who told her that she certainly would.

~*~

The boys’ dormitory was surprisingly tidy, at least by Grace’s standards. After spending the past 6 years being best friends with the twins, she had spent plenty of time in their dorm room, which they shared with Lee, and which was much less orderly than this. There were often Honeydukes wrappers, random items of clothing, and the odd discarded Zonko’s packaging strewn across the floor and the furniture, as well as random items of food which Grace had learnt not to trust, for the twins were prone to enchanting them for their experiments. As well as this, the walls were usually shaking with booming laughter, bangs, and conversations until the wee hours, and the seemingly-permanent smell of gunpowder always left Grace slightly on edge.

But the Hufflepuff boys’ dormitory couldn’t be more different, to the extent that Grace half wondered if they somehow persuaded the house elves to do extra cleaning in here. The only items floating around the room were textbooks and the odd “Potter Stinks” badge, which thankfully Cedric had persuaded his friends not to wear. A soft light came in from the high windows, and a sense of tranquility filled Grace as she perched herself on the edge of Cedric’s, taking in the textbooks and sketchbooks which sat in a neat pile on his bedside table, topped by a miniature figure of the blue-grey Swedish Short-Snout from the first task.

“Nice room,” she marvelled as he crouched down at the end of his bed, rummaging through his trunk.

“Thanks,” he answered, his grey eyes catching hers as he rose and held out a parcel wrapped in heart-patterned paper. She took it from his hands, looking up at him through her eyelashes, unable to stop herself from smiling down at the parcel. He had attached a heart-shaped gift tag, which read:

_ “To Grace, _

_ Happy Valentines’ Day! _

_ Yours always, _

_ Cedric x” _

“Aw,” she said, slightly tearfully, biting her lip slightly, “This is so sweet!”

“You haven’t opened it yet,” Cedric grinned, scrunching his nose up at her, though he was blushing slightly.

So she did open it, and inside she saw an engraved silver frame, within which was a beautiful illustration of the two of them dancing at the Yule Ball. His hands were on her waist, looking down at her with a longing glint in her eyes, and she beamed back at him. The artistry was skilful and vibrant, capturing such a precious moment in a way that almost seemed to transport her back to that very night. At the bottom of the frame, it read “ _ 25th of December 1994 _ ”.

Her eyes glistened more than ever, and in a shaky voice she told him, “Cedric… that is so lovely,”

“So you’ll never forget that night,” he told her, visibly relieved that she had liked his gift to her.

“How could I ever forget it?” she asked, standing up and throwing her arms around him. “I love you. So much,” she told him, slightly muffled by his jumper which she had pressed her face into to conceal her emotions.

“I love you, too, Gracie,” he told her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. After a minute or so of standing entwined like this, Grace tilted her face up, her eyes flitting between his sparkling grey eyes and his slightly-parted lips.

“Come here,” he murmured, cupping her face gently in his hands as their lips met, a long and passionate kiss ensuing. Her hands became entangled in his soft, dark hair, and the couple lost all sense of the time and their surroundings and the impending task which was still shrouded in mystery, until the world was only the two of them. And it was perfect this way.

“Oh,” she said breathily, eventually pulling back from the kiss with a great deal of reluctance, “Your gift,” she told him, turning him round and pushing on his shoulders to indicate that he should sit on his bed, to which he complied. She sat on the bed beside him before pulling a box of Honeydukes chocolates from her satchel, with an envelope attached, and she handed them to him with a sheepish look on her face.

“It’s not much, I know,” she began. She really felt quite awful about the basic nature of her gift, considering all the time and effort and even  _ money _ that must have gone into Cedric’s perfect present. After Christmas she was running low on money, and this was all she could really afford to give to him.

“These are my favourite,” he told her earnestly. Money didn’t matter to him- he had grown up with enough of it to be comfortable, and he had learnt that it was much less impressive than some might think. A small, thoughtful gift (or indeed, none at all) could be just as meaningful, he thought. And if it came from Grace, it was guaranteed to be treasured by him.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, relieved that he didn’t think of her as stingy or anything along those lines. In all honesty, Cedric felt that actually  _ having _ a Valentine was a gift in itself- he would never have expected anything from her, and he told her so.

“Do you ever get tired of being so perfect, Cedric Diggory?” she asked him, smirking up at him.

“Nah, it’s just in my perfect nature,” he joked, not truly believing what either of them were saying. After all, everyone had flaws; Cedric just actively tried to combat his, to be empathetic and understanding. That, after all, was in his nature as a Hufflepuff.

He began to open the envelope but Grace’s eyes widened and she put her hand over his to stop him.

“What, is this for your other Valentine?” he teased, wondering why she wouldn’t let him open it.

“Shove off,” she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him, “Of course it’s for you, I just-” she fiddled absentmindedly with the cuff of her jumper, “I just get nervous. It’s like… heartfelt and… you should read it when I’m not here,” she told him, still looking down at her lap.

“As you wish, love,” he assured her, placing the chocolates and the half-opened envelope on his night stand before wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing a kiss onto her burning cheek.

“You’re the best, you know that, don’t you?” she asked him, looking into his glistening grey eyes. They reminded her of storm clouds, spun with silver; almost out of place in the face of such a warm person. “I’m really lucky to have you,”

“It’s not luck,” he whispered, with a cheeky smile, “It’s fate,”

And although she was inclined to think that Divination was a load of tosh, in this moment it seemed an inarguably credible subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter has been a bit of a long time coming! But I suppose it's a bit of a longer one, so hopefully you enjoy it, and that might make up for how late it is...


	19. Chapter 19

“Where the hell is she?” whined Fred, crossing his arms over his abdomen, “We’ve been waiting forever, I’m starving,”

“I don’t know,” sighed George, “She’s usually up by now,”

“What was the point in getting up so early if _she’s_ not even up? Honestly, George, I told you she’d be having a sleep in, it’s her birthday,”

“Oh come on, you know Grace- when was the last time she had a sleep in?” George retorted, raising a brow at his twin.

“Fine,” Fred conceded, “Then what if she… well, y’know…” he started, suddenly looking as though he didn’t want to go on.

George shot him a curious look, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Well, it’s the day of the second task, maybe she… _slept over_ in the Hufflepuff’s dorms…”

Suddenly George felt rather nauseous; he didn’t want to consider _that_ idea.

Seeing the look on his brother’s face, Fred quickly scrambled to correct himself, “She might’ve been with that girl she’s been mentioning- what’s her face, the beater, Radhika?”

But before George could formulate a response, the door of the Ravenclaw common room swung open, Cho stepping out.

“HAAAAPPY BIR-” Fred began tunelessly, before seeing that Cho was not accompanied by Grace, but by Marietta.

Whilst Grace might have forgiven (though certainly not forgotten) what Cho had done at the party, the twins definitely had not- Fred, seeing her as his sister, was extremely protective of Grace, whilst George had unfortunately borne the brunt of her hurt feelings that night, and was still feeling particularly bad about what she felt he has insinuated.

“Oh, it’s _you_ ,” scowled Fred, narrowing his eyes at Marietta.

She put on an innocent face, which made Fred want to deck her. “Looking for someone?” she asked, in a sickly sweet tone.

“Grace,” Fred managed.

“Well, I’m afraid we haven’t seen her since you came to take her to McGonagall last night,” she replied in the same tone, though she seemed to sneer at George, and he knew exactly what she was insinuating.

George took a deep breath, biting back his urge to give Marietta a piece of his mind; he wouldn’t ruin Grace’s birthday, and as much as she disliked Marietta he knew that Grace wouldn’t want him to.

“Have you seen her?” he pressed, addressing Cho instead now. She only shook her head quietly, her eyes fixed timidly on Marietta.

Fred met his twin’s eyes and they came to a silent agreement, making their way down to the Hufflepuff’s common room.

“Remind me again _why_ we gave that map to Harry,” grumbled Fred.

As luck would have it, they arrived just as Cedric and Radhika were leaving their common room, deep in conversation.

“And I just didn’t really know what to get her, I mean, we haven’t been friends that long but I _had_ to get her something, obviously, so I was just thinking-” Radhika froze as she saw Fred and George approaching them. “Oh, hello,”

Fred greeted her, but George turned straight to Cedric.

“Everything alright?” asked Cedric, looking slightly concerned at George’s unusually serious expression. They rarely spoke to each other, except for when they were around Grace, during which time they conversed civilly for her sake. Cedric thought it something of a shame- he would probably get on quite well with the twins, he thought, had the incident with the dementors not happened during the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff quidditch match last year.

And if George wasn’t deeply in love with his girlfriend.

“Have you seen her?” George asked, afraid to hear the answer, though slightly relieved that she hadn’t emerged from the common room with them.

Before Cedric could respond, Radhika had turned to George excitedly, beaming as if it were her _own_ birthday. “Grace? We were just heading to her common room to meet her!”

“Uh, yeah, it might be a bit late now though,” Cedric added, “You know she likes to be up early, she’s probably at breakfast now so we’ll just head to the Great Hall instead,”

George knew it was unreasonable to feel jealousy tugging at his gut as Cedric so nonchalantly referenced Grace’s little habits, but he felt it nonetheless. “Well, no one has seen her since we left her with McGonagall last night-”

“Unless you’ve seen her?” Fred offered.

Cedric looked even more worried now, his eyes flitting to Radhika. “She was supposed to be coming to our common room for a bit yesterday but she didn’t show up. I just assumed she was with you two,” he answered, though he seemed to be focused on George. It was as though this conversation was only between the pair of them, until Radhika cut in again.

“What did McGonagall want with her?” she asked, crossing her arms as though she would be having words with McGonagall if she had bothered her friend.

Fred simply shrugged, “She didn’t say, but she must’ve been a while because McGonagall wouldn’t let us wait for her,”

This hung in the air for a few moments.

“Well,” Radhika said, breaking the silence, “I suppose we’d better head to breakfast, not clog up the corridors. And _you’ve_ got a task to prepare for,” she added looking up at Cedric.

The anxiety that he had been trying to swallow began to resurface at the mention of the task. He had been so distracted by thoughts of Grace and her birthday that, if only for a moment, he had almost forgotten about the task that awaited him after breakfast. He had checked his room that morning to see if any of his most treasured possessions were missing, but everything seemed to be in place.

Everything, but-

“Oh, Merlin’s beard!” he exclaimed, stopping dead in the corridor as the group made their way to the Great Hall. Each of them turned to look at him, Radhika with curiosity and George with mild irritation, and passing students with surprise.

“What’s up?” Radhika asked him, frowning at the sudden pallor which had washed over his face.

“She’s at the bottom of the sodding lake,”

~*~

It had taken Radhika all the strength she had to stop the three boys from plunging themselves into the Black Lake then and there, though a part of her quite wanted to join them in the mission to rescue Grace.

Breakfast was a tense affair; she tried to coax Cedric to eat something, reminding him that he could hardly swim to the depths of the Black Lake on an empty stomach. Meanwhile, Fred seemed to be pretending that his pancakes were Cedric’s face, and he stabbed them mercilessly, shooting the odd glare at Cedric, who he felt was to blame for the whole situation. And finally George: he seemed as unhappy as any of them about the situation, but he hadn’t said a word about the situation since they had reached the hall.

Radhika wondered how Grace coped with them at times.

The twins had offered to sit with Radhika during the task, having initially planned to sit together with Grace, and were the situation better they might’ve gotten on quite well. But George and Radhika stood at the edge of the lake with Cedric, it was clear that it wasn’t only the cold February air that was biting.

Cedric looked very uncomfortable as the area began to fill with giddy students, buzzing over the excitement of the task. He felt as though he might be sick as he ran over the words that the egg had sung to him.

_But past an hour_

_The prospect’s black;_

_Too late, it’s gone_

_It won’t come back_

The words filled his mind, and he uttered them quietly, as though they were water overflowing from the sink.

“Ced- it’ll be fine!” Radhika told him, though it was an attempt to convince herself as much as it was to convince him. “It was probably just a bluff, they wouldn’t just let her _die_ , they changed the rules to prevent things like that this year-”

She was silenced by a grim look from George.

“Would you _stop_ that, Diggory?” he spat, as Cedric paced along the edge of the lake, running his hands through his dark hair. He looked in a bad way, and rightly so, thought George. He might have come up with some dangerous pranks in his day, but he had never put the love of his life at the bottom of a bloody lake. It took every ounce of willpower not to throttle Cedric, though he knew it wasn’t really his fault.

He hadn’t chosen this. But it certainly wouldn’t have happened if not for him.

“Sorry,” he said, coming to a halt. Why did he have to be so perfect? Why wouldn’t he just fight back, let him expel his rage?

“You can’t be down here,” said a particularly nasally voice from behind them. George turned to see his older brother, Percy, marching over to them, glaring through his horn-rimmed glasses as he clearly assumed that they were up to no good.

“Oh, hello, you’re Percy Weasley, aren’t you?” asked Radhika, momentarily distracting Percy from his power-trip in Barty Crouch’s absence.

George took this opportunity to turn to Cedric.

“Listen, you know I’ve never liked you-” he began.

“Wow, thanks,” laughed Cedric, though he sounded devoid of humour.

George rolled his eyes. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that… Well… Good luck. For once, I hope that you perform perfectly,”

Cedric looked up at him, taken by surprise at his well-wishing words. “Uh- thanks,”

“Because if you _don’t_ ,” he murmured, taking a step towards him, “Grace won’t be the only one at the bottom of the lake,”

Closing his eyes, Cedric took a deep yet shaky breath. It seemed that Radhika could hold Percy off for no longer, and she tugged on George’s arm to lead him to the stands.

“Good luck, Ced!” she chirped, clapping him on the back before they left him standing alone at the side of the lake.

~*~

The hour that followed was, to put it simply, torturous, both for the three in the stands and the boy alone in the freezing lake.

Fred was swearing under his breath, Radhika was restraining him from beating up the over-excited children that surrounded them, and George was leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs, as he stared incessantly at the murky depths of the lake for any telltale sign that Grace might emerge soon.

In fact, as the time passed tediously slowly, he was just about to ask Fred how long it had been for what felt like the millionth time that morning when he heard a gasp behind him.

“Is that Cedric and his girlfriend?” a voice exclaimed, sounding utterly awestruck.

George had half a mind to turn around and correct the girl. _Actually_ , he thought, _her name is Grace Wynfield, and she’s much more interesting than that brain dead git._ But before he knew it he was on his feet, pushing his way to the end of the row and tearing down the steps of the stands to the edge of the lake, closely followed by Fred and Radhika.

Air flooded into Grace’s lungs as she reached the surface of the Black Lake, suddenly aware of the all-encompassing cold of the water, to which she had been oblivious to since entering the lake.

She didn’t remember much of what had happened the night before; she had been finishing up on some Charms homework in her common room before heading to see Cedric and Radhika when Anthony, looking fearful for the life of the common room door, had told her that the twins were waiting for her outside. She remembered them telling her that McGonagall needed to see her, Ron and Hermione, and finding them in the library before heading to McGonagall’s office. She remembered being told that she would be put to sleep, perfectly safe in the lake.

And the next thing she knew, Cedric’s strong arms were wrapped tightly around her waist as the cold water seeped into her clothes, chilling her to the bone and weighing her down.

“Oh my god, I’m the thing you’d miss the most,” she spluttered, clinging to Cedric’s neck as they treaded water, allowing her to take in the situation for a moment.

“Of course you are,” he said, with a crooked grin, though relief was evident on his face as he caught his breath. Not only had he rescued her, he was the first to resurface, and would likely be the first back to land. “Happy birthday, Grace,”

Her heart soaring, Grace pulled him towards her, pressing their foreheads together and brushing her lips softly against his.

“Now let’s get back to land, champion,” she laughed, with a slight shiver. Noticing this reminded Cedric, who had almost acclimatised to the freezing water, that they had better hurry back to the land and the warmth of the castle.

Madam Pomfrey was beaten only by George, who sprinted over to Grace as soon as she reached the edge of the lake, pulling her up and out of the water before wrapping her in his arms.

“Thank Godric,” he muttered into her wet hair, squeezing his eyes tight as relief flooded through his body. He paid no mind to the fact that his clothes were getting wet, or that he was making a spectacle of himself in front of the whole school. He was just grateful to have her back.

“I was so bloody worried,”

“It’s fine,” she whispered, patting his back gently. “It’s fine, it was only a task, Georgie,”

“But anything could’ve happened, and-” he stopped himself. “Happy birthday,”

When he opened his eyes again, he gave a grateful look to Cedric, who had just wrapped himself in a blanket that Madam Pomfrey had handed him.

She interrupted him before he was done, insisting that he allowed her to treat her patient, before giving Grace a blanket and some Pepper-Up potion. Of course, she was then bombarded with hugs from Fred, who still looked as though he wanted to pummel Cedric, and Radhika, who told Cedric that she knew he was capable all along.

They were eventually ushered over to the benches again, to allow everyone to look out for the remaining champions- Viktor and Harry.

“You saved me,” Grace grinned lazily, fighting the urge to yawn as she leaned against Cedric’s shoulder, still tightly wrapped in the blanket she had been given. “I could’ve been property of the giant squid,”

“He’d have to fight me for you,” Cedric laughed, although in that moment he had happened to look up and meet George’s eye, who was watching them with a slightly pained expression on his face, though he looked away as soon as their eyes met.

“How romantic,” she chuckled, watching the lake intently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii. I honestly can't believe the support this fic has gotten lately, I'm so grateful to everyone reading this, but most of all I hope you're enjoying it. I think we all kinda need to escape reality at the moment, so this is great for me to write and hopefully great for you guys to read :))


	20. Chapter 20

Over the years, Grace had learnt that there was nothing quite like a Weasley twins party. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, she would struggle to tell you.

They were always guaranteed to be entertaining, to say the least; they were always filled with fireworks and perhaps a concerning use of magic, which had only increased as the twins aged. Furthermore, wizards seemed to take an even more lenient attitude to underage drinking than regular British teens (which, if anything, Grace thought was absurd, because firewhisky and Wizard’s Brew were a _seriously deadly_ combination).

Each year, for their own birthday and for Grace’s birthday, the twins would host a party in the Gryffindor common room, complete with loud music and pranks. The older Gryffindor’s had soon gotten over the fact that three twelve-year-olds (one of whom wasn’t even _in_ Gryffindor) were taking over the common room, swayed by the excitement of a party and the availability of liquor. And just because Grace’s 17th birthday happened to fall on the day of the second task didn’t mean that this wouldn't be the case- on the contrary, the party was all the more exciting, celebrating Harry’s joint lead in scores at 85 points each.

After a lot of begging, the twins had reluctantly settled to brand it as a party for Harry- Grace had never been a fan of the attention afforded to her on her birthday, feeling it was forced upon the Gryffindors due to the twins’ extreme enthusiasm. Instead, the party was to be for Harry’s success, though much to his dismay- he liked the attention about as much as Grace did.

By six o’clock the Gryffindor common room was bustling with life and, though most of them were Gryffindors, Radhika had managed to get an invite out of Fred, as well as a few Ravenclaws. The twins had insisted, however, that Cho did not get an invite, knowing that she would likely bring who the twins now referred to as “She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named”, and Grace had given in to their wishes when Fred reminded her that the party _wasn’t_ for her.

“If you’re insisting that this party is for Harry,” he told her, in the matter-of-fact tone which he often adopted when he had the upper hand over her, “Then you can’t get choosy with the guest list,”

There was no sign of any of the Hufflepuffs, of course- they were holding their own celebrations in their common room in light of Cedric’s joint first-place with Harry. Grace had tried to balance her own party, a tradition which she knew the twins would never let her slip out of (nor would she want to disappoint them by doing so) with her boyfriend’s well-deserved victory celebrations. And the result was not pretty.

As was widely known to her friends, Grace wasn’t one for dancing. She appreciated music, even loved singing along, and would have been content to watch everyone else dancing around for the rest of her evening as she laughed from the safety of the settee.

But Fred and George weren’t ones to take “no” for an answer when it came Grace.

“You’ll regret not doing this in the future,” Fred always said, over-exaggerating the smallest of things to make her join in. And if they begged her hard enough, she would usually come around, because how could Grace ever say no to her two best friends?

And that was exactly what had happened at her 17th birthday party. Radhika and the twins had coaxed her into dancing with them, to a mix of music of their own making. Every song was upbeat and catchy, and their dancing was fuelled by a carefree concoction of muggle and wizard alcoholic drinks.

As she set her empty cup down on the table, having drained the dregs of her drink from it for liquid courage, she felt Fred and George pull her to the centre of the Gryffindor common room. Over the din of the many students chatting and laughing, she could hear “Dancing Queen” by ABBA playing on Radhika’s bewitched CD player, a special request from the twins, to whom Grace had introduced their music in second year.

“George, no, really,” she pleaded, clutching the stitch in her side through the laughter.

“You have to! We’ve been waiting for this moment since we were like twelve,” Fred slurred, throwing his arm around her cheerfully.

She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her hands over her eyes quickly, smudging her eyeliner slightly, as they pulled her onto the table which they were using as a makeshift stage.

“Lee, now!” George bellowed to Lee, who was standing at the opposite side of the common room. Lee took this as his cue to tap his wand to a box of Dr Filibuster’s Wet-Start, No-Heat fireworks before him, which exploded into a flurry of vibrant colour as the chorus of “Dancing Queen” rang through the room, though slightly drowned out by Fred and George’s off-key singing.

“You are the dancing queen!” they bellowed at the top of their lungs, their arms still around her as they stood on either side of her, swaying drunkenly, “Young and sweet only seventeen! Do do, do do, do do!”

Grace couldn’t control her laughter at this, her face glowing red in embarrassment but appreciation for her friends, who had clearly put a lot of thought and effort into planning the party. Fred’s drink sloshed from his cup, causing Radhika, who was wearing a beautiful golden dress, to squeal and jump back, bumping into Harry.

The pair jumped off the table, pulling Grace with them and causing her to stumble slightly before they collapsed into the nearest armchair in a fit of giggles, Grace landing atop of them.

“Wasn’t that a stellar performance?” Fred grinned, rubbing his temple.

“Def- Cedric!” Grace beamed, cutting her way through to the portrait whole, which had just swung open to reveal her boyfriend.

Cedric was standing in the doorway, looking slightly flushed and confused by the pile-on in the armchair, but he made his way through the crowd towards them nonetheless. He had left his own celebrations in the Hufflepuff common room to celebrate Grace’s birthday with her. Though he knew that his fellow housemates had held the party to celebrate him winning the task, he knew that they would enjoy the party even without him- any excuse to have a party was good enough for the Hufflepuffs.

Wobbling slightly as she rose to her feet, Fred still groaning under the weight of his twin, Grace flung herself into Cedric’s arms.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, bypassing her usual aversion to drawing attention to herself and peppering him with kisses in her tipsy excitement. Cedric chuckled, surprised by her unusually affectionate demeanour, and placed his hands on her waist. But he wasn’t able to answer her before George had interjected, standing up with a slight sway as he attempted to compose himself, brushing invisible dust off his clothes. While Grace was over the moon to see her boyfriend, George was clearly not.

He was still angry with Cedric for apparently “endangering” Grace’s life, and even more so when Cedric had suggested that she could attend the Hufflepuff’s party that night, unaware of the party which Fred and George had planned.

“Yeah, what _are_ you doing here, Diggory?” he demanded, scowling at the boy as he slurred his words slightly. Cedric let go of Grace’s waist as he turned to face George, raising a single brow.

“Can’t we have her for five minutes on her bloody birthday? Can’t you let her enjoy herself, without trying to push her into your shadow, golden boy? You waltz in here with your prefect badge and your Triwizard tournament and you th-” George cleared his throat, “You think you can take Grace away from us to go to _your_ party, on _her_ birthday? Have you ever thought what _she_ might want?” he asked, raising his voice now.

Grace was weary of the stares that they were gaining from the students around them, who mere minutes before had been dancing and celebrating. The music seemed suddenly quieter, the chatter dying down as all eyes were glued on the two boys, perhaps hoping for a scuffle. Subconsciously she felt Cedric’s arm wrap comfortingly around her waist, knowing it would put her at ease somewhat.

Cedric’s mouth hung slightly open as he stared in shock and confusion at George. Sure, he knew that George didn’t particularly like him, and for obvious reasons- but was he actually all that bad?

“I- I’m sorry if you think that’s what I’m trying to do, mate, but I would never try to keep Grace away from her friends. And I’m not trying to take the limelight or whatever either, I’ve just come to celebrate with her,” he said, keeping a calm and even tone.

“Oh, right, so you don’t keep her away from _me_? Because I’m pretty sure she’s told you, not that it’s not abundantly clear,” he accused, alluding to his confession from the night of the Yule Ball.

Grace’s ears burned red at this- of course Cedric knew, but she had never expected the underlying tension to come to the surface.

“No,” Cedric said firmly, “I don’t. She’s capable of making her own decisions, and if she hasn’t been hanging around you as much maybe you should be asking _her_ why,” Cedric said, clearly becoming slightly irate as his calm composure failed him.

He didn’t even know where the words were coming from; in that moment he simply said what he knew would hurt George, though he knew it was wrong of him, not like himself at all. “You can’t force her to love you, George,” he said quietly.

“I _know_ that she’s capable of making her own decisions, I know her a million times better than you ever will!” George exploded, stepping towards Cedric, “I’m surprised you know anything about her, you’re so vapid and self-absorbed-”

“C’mon, mate, leave it,” Fred muttered, laying a hand on his twin’s shoulder. It seemed as though they had all instantly sobered, seeing that the situation was becoming quickly more serious.

“No, it’s not about her not being in love with me-” he said, shoving his twin off him and lunging forward as the crowd yelped. Radhika stepped forward as if moving to protect her friends.

“Christ!” Grace said, her voice trembling, “What is wrong with you?”

George seemed to snap out of his anger immediately, looking at her with a pained expression.

“I’m- I don’t intentionally spend less time with anyone! I just… well, as you’ve just shown me you can’t fucking get on, and it’s not like I can be everywhere at once!” she exclaimed, now inexplicably filled with anger and frustration herself.

“Grace, I-”

“I can speak for myself, George, and I never _wanted_ the attention, I don’t even want a party!”

The room was eerily silent as the Gryffindors waited with bated breath to hear what George had to say. But he said nothing.

“You’ve already made enough of a spectacle of me for one day, don’t you think?” she said, her eyes trailing around the crowd of people around them before coming to rest on George with a cold glare. Her eyes prickled with tears, but she was determined not to cry, not in front of all these people.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- I just-”

“You never do mean it, do you? You can never leave well enough alone. You’re supposed to be my best friend and you’ve ruined this whole night!”

George felt his heart sink at these words; he knew instantly that he had made a mistake, but he just couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. Knowing that, although she had woken up in the middle of a freezing lake, _his_ behaviour had been what had spoilt her day, he felt sick to his stomach with guilt. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Cedric was right- he couldn’t make Grace love him, and even if he could, he didn’t deserve her to. He hung his head in shame and retreated, leaving Grace standing there shaking with anger, Cedric still holding her close to his side.

It was only out of respect for Fred and Lee’s efforts in planning the party that Grace did not leave there and then. The rest of the evening was spent chatting with friends and ignoring George, who had since exiled himself to a quiet corner, watching mournfully over the rest of the partygoers that had seemingly already forgotten his little outburst. An indignant burst of adrenaline still coursed through her veins, though it was beginning to fizzle out as the night slowly drew to a close.

She was mad; mad with George for instigating a stupid row, mad with Cedric for some unknown reason (perhaps because, deep under her aggrieved state, she felt sorry for George), and most of all mad with herself for allowing any of this to happen.

It was stupid, she knew, to be mad with herself for a situation over which she had little to no control. She was not a perfect person, and she couldn’t make everyone happy all the time; but a nagging voice in her head told her that she wasn’t even trying to make them happy. She was selfish, flaunting her relationship in George’s face. Selfish to ever hope that the two boys could truly get on, knowing the situation.

Despite herself, she wanted so badly to laugh. Wasn’t this what she had hoped for, begged for, dreamed about? For George to love her back, when the burden of seemingly unrequited love had sat heavily on her shoulders? For Cedric to show some interest in her, when she was overjoyed at hearing that he would be travelling to the Quidditch World Cup with her? Her mother had always told her to be careful what she wished for, and for the first time in her life Grace thought that her mother was perfectly reasonable.

As the remaining students from other houses slipped away, hoping not to be caught by Filch, Grace decided it was time to leave too. She said her goodbyes to Fred and Lee, thanking them for an _eventful_ evening- and upon seeing George sitting dejectedly in a far off corner, she felt compelled to thank him too.

As if he sensed her presence he looked up at her, hair falling in a dishevelled manner over his face. He bit his lip slightly, as though holding back words that he wanted so desperately to tell her, or the tears that shone in his eyes. Their eyes met only briefly, and Grace quickly looked down at her shoes, knowing that there was nothing more she could say to him tonight.

“Ready to go?” asked Cedric, squeezing her hand gently.

“Yeah,” she replied, and with that she left George alone with his regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) Sorry that this chapter took a little while to get out, life has been kinda hectic lately. I hope you enjoyed this chapter- and for those of you who like Grace and Ced, you're in luck! The next chapter will be about their Easter break together <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this fic as much as I enjoy writing it. I’ll also be posting it on wattpad if you prefer to use that. Feel free to leave comments etc, it would mean a lot. Thank you for reading :)


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